Page 77 of Matched By My Rival
Simon lifted up and nudged me onto my back. He looked sheepish. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to do that.”
I took the hand he proffered, letting him pull me up.
“You didn’t mean to tackle me and keep me from catching that disc?” I asked skeptically.
He winced. “Okay, yes, but I didn’t mean to take you down so hard.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I got carried away. I’m sorry.”
I shook my head, smiling a little. “You don’t have anything to prove, you know.”
He tensed. “I wasn’t—”
“Everyone here knows you were a great player, Simon.”
“Were.”
His voice held a tinge of bitterness, and it was my turn to wince. “I’m sure you still are. I always admired you on the field.”
Simon snorted. “Admired oradmired?”
Before I could answer, the guys reached us. Johnston shoved Simon playfully but aggressively. “Don’t be wrecking Reed before the game next week, man. We need him.”
“Sorry.”
“Are you okay, Reed?” Cruz asked.
“I could always take his routes next week,” Hinkel volunteered, showing a little competitiveness I’d not seen before.
“I’m fine, but thanks for the heartfelt concern.”
Simon snorted and raised his hand for a high five. “Well played, Hinkel.”
Hinkel, grinning unashamedly, slapped his palm. “Maybe you could tackle him again? Help me get a leg up?”
“Hey!” I protested.
Simon laughed. “Nah, I’m pretty sure Johnston would kick my ass.”
“Damn right I would. Sports injuries are nothing to laugh at.” He glowered. “As I’m sure you know, Prentiss.”
Simon sobered. “I do.”
“How about we play Frisbee and you leave the tackles to the linebackers, huh?” Cruz added.
Simon nodded, lifting his hands. “No more unnecessary roughness. Got it.”
Johnston held out his fist for a bump. “Miss you on the field, bro.”
Simon didn’t answer.
As the guys jogged across the green, I turned to him. “You okay?”
“Isn’t that my line?”
I rolled my shoulder. It was a bit sore, but no serious harm had been done. “I’m fine.”
“You sure? I hit you pretty hard—”
“I’m sure,” I cut in, then eyeing him hard, I said, “Don’t think I can’t handle anything you dish out, Prentiss. In a fair game, you’re going down.”
