Page 39 of The Perfect Pass
He blinked. He’d almost forgotten about their little game. And the wager…
Which he still had every intention of winning.
“Go, Coach Knight,” one of his players yelled.
When Jackson turned his back to the vampire target and prepared to throw, his gaze snagged briefly on the boys. There were about eight of them pressed right up against the counter—all of them older first-string players, except for Tommy. For a second or two, he thought he spied something sinister about Watson Stokes’s expression. But he chalked it up to the Halloween face paint that made the teen’s mouth look like it spread from ear to ear in a chilling grin.
Besides, he needed to focus. There was a vampire behind him with his name on it.
“Come on, Coach! You’ve got this,” another kid called out.
“No way. Calla’s been besting him all day,” Cade said with a shake of his head. He’d strolled over from the dunk tank after word had spread about the spectacle at booth number 8.
Jackson had sort of assumed his friend had shown upfor a little moral support. Not so, apparently. “Seriously, bro? You’re my quarterbacks coach.”
“Exactly.” He flashed a grin at Calla. “That’s why I know a good arm when I see one.”
A round of playful taunts went up from the crowd as Calla slapped Cade’s palm in a high five. Jackson just laughed and shook his head.
“You ready, Coach? Time’s a wastin’,” Calla said.
“Areyouready?” Jackson lifted a brow and tossed his first ball over his shoulder.
It glided effortlessly through the hole in the vampire cutout. Calla’s mouth dropped open in shock as a roar went up from the crowd.
Jackson slung his hands on his hips and shrugged. “Did I forget to mention that the Cyclones had a pregame backward-toss battle with the Vipers last season?”
They’d practiced for weeks, and in the end, the six players with the best backward accuracy had faced off against a half-dozen players from the Vipers. Jackson had been the very first player picked to represent his team. It was just a pregame demo for the fans, nothing serious. But when it came to their rivalry with the Vipers, the Cyclones didn’t mess around.
“Funnily enough, that didn’t come up.” Calla’s eyes narrowed in a lighthearted glare.
“Oops. My bad.” He picked up another ball and propelled it over his shoulder, just like the last one. Again, it flew through the target.
Cade crossed his arms and winced at Calla. “That’s two down, two to go.”
Jackson could barely hear him over the cheers and jeers from the throng of spectators. When he easily made thethird shot, things finally quieted down as the crowd held its breath.
“I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” Calla murmured. But despite the fact that he was poised to win, she still had a fresh-faced glow about her that told him she was having fun.
The reporter with the stony expression who’d perched at the top row of the stadium on the first day of football practice had completely left the building. In her place stood a woman with a radiant smile and wind-tossed hair that framed her face like a golden halo.
Jackson would’ve moved heaven and earth to keep her there…
With him.
So much for avoiding each other.How could he have possibly thought that was a good idea?
“Believe it, sweetheart,” he whispered with a sly smile.
Then he launched the last ball over his shoulder, the motion smooth and confident, as if daring gravity—and real life, where he and Calla would never be together—to catch up.
* * *
Calla’s heart jerked as Jackson’s fourth ball shot through the target. That sneaky, smug, overconfident man hadtrickedher. She should’ve been furious right then, but inexplicably, all she could seem to do was shake her head and laugh.
“Sorry, Calla,” Cade said. But with a massive grin on his face, he didn’t look a bit contrite.
Neither did Jackson. He didn’t bother with a cocky victory celebration or respond to any of the numerous people who tried to high-five him. He simply walked toward herwith a slightly raised eyebrow and a subtle swagger that gave her the ridiculous urge to pick up a pair of pom-poms.
