Page 65 of Their Greatest Strength

Someone in a Pythons jersey runs down the path created by the cheerleaders with a giant orange and black flag in his hands. The open-mouthed Python on the flag ripples as it catches a small breeze.

A deep voice rings out through the stadium, and my pulse kicks up a notch. I don’t know what to do with my hands, so I fold my arms. It doesn’t feel right, so I drop them and press my palms to my thighs. That still isn’t right, but I don’t switch it up. If I keep twitching, the only headline coming out about me and Jamie is that he chose a weirdo to be his wife.

Keep it cool, Blakely.

“Oh, God,” I breathe out when smoke fills the air beside the first set of cheerleaders and bodies start appearing from the tunnel.

We didn’t go over anything. Didn’t plan how we’d do this—and we’resoscrewed. It’s going to be terrible and awkward. I’ll never get over the embarrassment.

Nathan steps into my space and takes my hand while waving his other one. I squeeze the shit out of his fingers and keep my eyes trained on the players emerging.

Jamie’s second out of the tunnel.

Even with a helmet and bulky equipment on, I know it’s him. The tall length of his body, flexing fingers at his sides, and the hand that goes up to wave at the crowd screams Jamie.

He only confirms my suspicions when he skips down the field and lifts both arms into the air in aloudermotion. I nip at the inside of my cheek and watch him holler into the stadium, his white teeth flashing behind the bars of his helmet.

I think that’ll be it. That he’ll put on a bit of a show and then go to the bench with his team. Oh, am I ever wrong. Instead of doing that, he turns and jogs right for me.

My breath stalls in my throat. The gasps from the fans behind me are so loud they echo in my ears. Nate tightens his hold on my hand as if to calm me down, and I don’t have the heart to tell him it isn’t working.

Jamie takes his helmet off, leaving it banging against his thigh as he slows his pace, getting closer and closer. His gaze is electric as he looks at me and grins so damn wide that some of my nerves dissipate.

With his football gear, he towers over me. His normally wide shoulders are bigger, and with the short sleeves of his jersey, those thick biceps corded with never-ending muscle are exposed, rippling with every brief stretch. It’s outright arm porn, and I’m struggling to catch my breath in front of him right now.

I’ve heard of a puck bunny, but is there an equivalent term for football? A ball chaser? Fuck it, the only balls I’d evercontemplate chasing are Jamie’s, and even then, I’d prefer not to do any literal chasing. Or have anything to do with balls.

“Smile at me, Bandit,” he says, voice low as he moves in close. “And please hug me back, or this is going to look really awkward.”

Warm, strong arms slip around my body, folding me against a firm chest. I release a tight breath and slowly wind my arms around Jamie, feeling the padding beneath his jersey and the scrape of the fabric against my palms.

It’s hard to tune out the cheers and bright flashes of cameras around us. Even with my eyes shut, I can see every white light and hear the various reactions from the fans.

Jamie palms my lower back with the gloved hand not holding his helmet, and I move, bringing my face to his chest. I’m hidden here, only growing more so when he adjusts his position and guards me with his arms. Something hot and sharp digs into my chest, and I squeeze my eyes tighter against the burn.

I’m protected. Even if just for as long as I’m right here.

“Good luck, Jamie,” I whisper.

His hold tightens, hand wandering up my spine to press me closer. “With you here? I’ll play the best I ever have.”

I can’t tell if he’s teasing or not, so I just assume he is.

He slowly releases me, moving carefully enough that I have time to prepare myself for reality again before it smacks me in the face.

Keeping his head dipped, he brings his mouth to my ear, softly breathing on the shell. “I’m going to kiss your cheek again, and if you’re feeling frisky, you can smack my ass when I turn away.”

The tease in his voice has me snorting a laugh. He grins against my cheek before pressing his lips to it, lingering there for a few moments.

Once he’s stepped away, I ignore the sudden change in temperature and watch as he fist bumps Nate.

“Keep your sister safe for me, buddy. And don’t forget to have fun,” he tells him.

Nate nods firmly. “You got it.”

Jamie rubs a hand over Nate’s hair and offers me a quirked, goading smile. His brows bounce around, and I follow my gut, waiting for him to spin around before acting.

“Go show off, Pretty Boy,” I call while whipping a hand out and smacking his ass.

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