Page 7 of Red Zone

“Didn’t know you two were still so close.” I kept my voice and facial expression neutral.

Skye glanced between us, her brow furrowing. “Mav’s always been there for me.”

I clenched my jaw as they walked away. That scar on my cheek burned, a reminder of the fight that had changed everything. He’d gotten in the way back then, and it looked like he still was. But I wasn’t backing down. “Guess some things never change.”

Mav glanced over his shoulder, paused, and smiled faintly but without humor. “Yeah. Some things don’t.” Before Mav turned to leave with Skye, his voice carried low enough for only me to hear. “You’re not as smart as you think, Cartwright. And if you don’t figure it out soon, someone else will.”

She’d moved on—Mav made that clear.But the way she avoided my questions, the flicker of panic in her eyes?It didn’t add up. Skye was hiding something, and I wouldn’t let it go.

CHAPTER FOUR

SKYE

Books littered the coffee table, but I didn’t have time for them. I needed to edit the pictures from this weekend’s game against Iowa. It was unusually quiet without Lily and Aunt Eileen, but I was so grateful to her for taking my daughter shopping and giving me an hour to get the pictures done and uploaded before I had to be at the field for a couple of candid shots of the athletes.

A few clicks through the pictures, and I couldn’t help but pause on two, Jackson and Leroy—a wide receiver and a defensive end who, from my experience, had exclusively ridden the bench but had acquired significant game time recently. Developing and earning crucial minutes in big games wasn’t unusual for players. Still, it surprised me—especially with Jackson and Leroy. Or at least Jackson. He was in one of my classes, and I’d noticed how much he’d bulked up over the past month. It was the class we had before practice. He would drink the contents in his shaker bottle then dart off as soon as class ended to get onto the field.

The only reason it interested me was my research in Professor White’s lab with a few others about the negativeand detrimental effects of performance-enhancing products. I wanted to ask what he was using. It couldn’t be illegal, because the athletes were randomly drug tested, and the guidelines for the NCAA were strict.

I clicked on a few pictures and uploaded them to the football team’s Instagram account, adding personal notes to hopefully engage fans. Jackson had more time than Leroy, but it was still impressive, especially going from zero field time to a full half of explosive blocking that had cleared the way for at least one of Liam’s touchdowns. I closed down a few images then was faced with an action shot of Liam.

He’d been everywhere—on the field, in the crowd’s roar, and worse, in my thoughts. Watching him stretch for that one-handed catch shot a pang of something through me that I refused to name. I hated how my heart still reacted to him and that no resolve could silence the memories of late-night talks and his whispered promises to make it big. He’d kept the details of those promises to himself, but I’d learned the hard way they didn’t include me.

Everything about him screamed athleticism and God-given talent.I know he’ll achieve his dreams, but did he have to crush my soul in the process?My hand shook as I tried and failed to minimize the image of what we’d had together—the fairy tale, magic, escapism, the star-crossed lovers’ vibe, then heartbreak. My self-confidence had shattered in one final conversation when I realized that, in his eyes, I was not good enough to include in his life goals.

Devastated, alone, and rejected, I’d had to regroup and realize that I was independent and I could do it all on my own—raise my child and build a life for myself as a single mother and still seek education to better my life and my daughter’s, without running to Liam for help. I’d realized quickly how resilient I wasand that I would never get back together with him no matter how much I missed him.

My encounter with Liam after the game had left me shaken. As Maverick had led me away, I’d refused to look back. It didn’t matter if Liam was staring after us or if the flicker of something in his eyes had been longing or anger. I’d made my choice a few years ago, and nothing—not Liam’s charm or his questions—would make me undo it.

I resolved not to let his larger-than-life personality affect me through memories or a photograph. I clicked through the last few pictures, sighing with relief. The house was calm for once, and I had an hour to breathe. A knock at the door shattered the moment.

Glancing at the time revealed I had another hour before I had to leave. Shuffling through my mental checklist of things to do before then, I opened the door without looking through the side window to see who it was—big mistake. My hand froze on the doorknob, dread pooling in my stomach.What the hell is he doing here?I wasn’t ready—not for him.No-no-no-no.My body went on lockdown as my fingers bit into the door.

Towering over me in a letterman jacket and jeans that hugged his powerful thighs was Liam, as if I’d conjured him from my warped imagination.

Lily. Oh God.A gust of cold early-December air blew in, sending a volley of goose bumps dancing over my skin beneath my long-sleeved T-shirt. I slammed the door in his face, eternally grateful that Aunt Eileen had taken Lily shopping as a mini panic attack took possession of me.

As he pounded on the door and shouted for me to let him in, I visually ticked through everything that was in the living room—her stuffed bunny, the mini kitchen, and if that wasn’t enough, there were pictures ofmydaughter—because there was no “our” in this situation—everywhere.

The pounding accentuated how I couldn’t ignore him forever. Reluctantly, I opened the door and tilted my chin higher to glare into his green eyes. “What are you doing here? My uncle isn’t here.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Liam pulled out his phone and stared at the screen before meeting my defensive stance again. “You’re my tutor?”

“Ah, what?” My eyes widened farther as I tried to block the entryway with my body.

“The athletic office gave me this address and told me to show up for chemistry tutoring, which I now assume you do. You should’ve gotten an email.” His jaw clenched.

Oh no.I thought through my calendar—I had a mandated athlete tutoring session today, and I’d forgotten. I squared my shoulders and crossed my arms. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

A muscle ticked along his sculpted jaw, and he crowded me. I stepped back, and he entered.

“Sure, come on in, Liam,” I snapped.

“I had no idea you lived here, Skye, or that this was Coach’s house.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and took a badly needed defensive stance. I didn’t like him in here. His presence felt too big for the room, suffocating me. I hated how easy it was to remember what it felt like to have him close, and I hated myself even more for still caring.Careful not to touch him, I moved to the couch and opened my laptop. Quickly minimizing the picture of him, I opened my email. “Dammit.” He wasn’t wrong. I had an email from the athletic advisor’s office and one from Professor White about tutoring Liam twice a week. Worried about upsetting Professor White and jeopardizing my TA position within his lower-level chemistry classes, I gave in. I could only hope Aunt Eileen wouldn’t return until Liam left. Taking a deep breath, I motioned for him to have a seat. “Yep.Looks like you’re stuck with me. Show me what you’re having problems with.”

More Liam time—not even at a distance but up close and personal—was the last thing I needed. I moved farther on the couch in an attempt not to let any part of our bodies touch. He was like a live wire and could set me off with one of his smoldering looks. I couldn’t risk it. Resisting him in the past had been almost impossible, but now… the stakes were higher.

---