Page 113 of Stutter

I get up, a little bruised but I’m fine.

I do my little dance, touch my fingers to my lips, and when the jumbotron does a side-by-side of me and Raven, I smile so broadly, that it hurts my cheeks currently smushed to all fuck in my helmet.

I’m sweaty, gross, stained, bruised, and limping a bit by the time I reach the locker room. Trina, our PT takes me aside to look me over, stating something about “it’ll bruise ugly,” but I don’t care.

My girl’s waiting for me.

I shower fast as fuck, making sure to wash my dick, under my sac, and then between my asscheekstwicein case Raven gets horny and wants to suck the remaining soul I have left out of my dick on the way home.

“Anderson!” River screams when I get out, drying off my dick with the scratchy towel. Yeah, I hope Raven kisses it better. The whole teamsstarts shouting my name. “Made it to the bowl, baby!”

Championships.

“We won?” I ask, grabbing my clothes and throwing them on. It’s a stupid question but I really wasn’t paying attention.

“What the fuck are you on? Of course we won!”

“Awesome. Gillette Stadium here we come!” I yell out in my best frat boy voice and the boys start barking.Of course we won. That’s why I didn’t care. God it stinks in here. I shove my feet into the thermal socks and then the boots Raven got me.

Coach Sutton and his AC pop out, smiles on their faces. Oh great, a fucking speech. I groan.

“What’s wrong with you?” Lombardi asks me.

“Just want to get back to my girl.”

“Yeah, she’s a little hottie, man. I mean, usually if they’re disabled I don’t go for it, but not all of us are fucking weird like you. Does she sign your name when she comes or something? That get you off?”

I feel his jaw hit my knuckles before I even realize I’ve thrown the punch.

“Whoa!” River yells.

But I’m on him, throwing fist after fucking fist and when he’s on the ground and I’m pulled away, I start kicking.

“Anderson!” Coach Sutton screams my name but all I see is red.

I get away from River and squat down, pulling the useless defenseman up by the collar of his shirt. I spit on Lombardi’s busted bloody face. “If you ever even look in my girl’s direction, I’ll fucking kill you, you disgusting piece of shit lowlife. I’ll curb stomp you on a fucking football, and piss on your fucking dislocated jaw. Do you understand me?”

The sniveling little bitch puts his hands up, nodding.

“That goes for the rest of you fucking dicks. Don’t talk to my girl, don’t look at my girl, don’t even fucking walk by her. If you see her, run in the other direction. You hear me?”

I’m avoiding Sutton’s ugly mug, shaking my hand. Fuck, that’s gonna hurt in the morning.

“I’m skipping the speech, Coach.”

He nods.

And I’m out.

Imagine my surprise when I see Prescott walking my way. No, not my way. Towards my girl. Fuck that. I reach her just in time, throwing my arm over her shoulder, tugging her to me – trying to protect her in any way I can. Why the fuck is he here of all places?

Stephen eyes my hand and then grins at my girl. I growl inwardly. “Raven,” he says, leaning to kiss her cheek. What the fuck? “Ravishing as always.”

Forward motherfucker.

She blinks up at him. It takes everything in me not to step away and take her with me.

He turns to me. “Jonas, good game as always.”

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