Page 194 of Red Zone
Now it’s all I can think about.
It hits me at the worst times too. When I’m running routes at practice, when I’m watching film, even when I’m trying to sleep.
That night at her place replays over and over in my head.
The way she felt under me. The way she whispered my name like it meant something.
The way her eyes filled with tears when I got dressed to leave.
And still…I left.
Because that’s what she asked me to do, even if she couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud.
I drag a hand over my face, leaning back on my bed. The ceiling is cracked in one corner, and I stare at it like it’s hiding the answers I’ve been looking for.
But it doesn’t give me any hints.
I thought I’d gotten good at being wanted for what I can do on a field and nothing else.
But she made me feel like more.
And now that I’ve had that…nothing else feels good enough.
Not the game.
Not the noise.
Not even the dream I’ve been chasing since I was a kid.
Because none of it is her.
The hockey house is packed with the kind of party that spills out onto the porch, music shaking the walls and beer bottles already collecting in corners.
We’re through super regionals, one step closer to the championship, and the guys are riding the high hard.
Jaxon and Beck are holding court over by the beer pong table, already a few games deep. Jaxon’s got his game face on even here, but Beck? He’s got that half-baked, too-big grin that always comes out when he’s trying too hard to forget something.
I keep an eye on both of them anyway.
Logan’s leaning on the counter next to me, scrolling through his phone while we talk.
“You heard from anyone yet?” he asks casually, glancing up.
“A few,” I say, sipping my beer. “Bears GM reached out this week. Raiders want to talk at Pro Day. Couple others sent over questionnaires. Nothing huge yet. All just…noise.”
Logan grunts, putting his phone away. “It’s gonna get real after Pro Day. Place’ll be crawling with scouts. You and Jaxon are gonna have all thirty-two here watching.”
I smirk faintly and shake my head. “No pressure.”
He chuckles, but then the front door swings open and a group of girls steps inside, laughing and brushing snow off their jackets.
Something about one of them catches my eye.
The way she carries herself—like she owns the room already—feels familiar.
I frown, tipping my beer slightly in her direction and murmuring to Logan, “Hey…isn’t that your buddy’s sister?”
Logan freezes mid-laugh.
