Page 18 of Bad Call
EMMETT
“Let’s fucking go, boys!”Jett shouts as we walk to the huddle, doing his best to hype us up. We beat the Cincinnati Impact last week, punching our ticket to the Wild Card game, which was a record-breaking feat for a first-year expansion team. So many people counted us out, but here we are—playing the reigning Super Bowl champs, the Boston Blizzard—in the postseason. They’re up by a touchdown with plenty of time left on the clock, so we’re trying to answer with six points of our own. It’s a wet, snowy New England evening, so the elements are definitely not making things easier. But we’re doing our best not to let Mother Nature beat us out here. Besides, we’re all Clevelanders now. We’re no strangers to the cold.
Maddox peers down at his wristband, double-checking the play before he leans in so we can hear. “Split twins, slot cross eighty on two. And watch your hands. The refs are looking for the hold every time. Ready?” The words come out in a cloud, and we all nod, clapping in unison as we head to our spots at the line of scrimmage. It’s a longpassing play—one where I’m the main target—so I need to shake my defender early, cross to the middle of the field, and create enough space for Maddox to get the ball into my hands. Their secondary struggled at the beginning of the year, but they’ve been doing great lately, so we can’t get complacent and underestimate them. Not to mention, we’re sharing a field with last season’s Defensive Player of the Year, Maverick Moran, so we all need to be on our toes.
“White eighty! White eighty! Set, hut!” Maddox grunts loudly, the snap hitting his hands immediately. I take off, running at full speed before stopping on a dime and slanting inward. Their cornerback has my number for sure, focusing his attention on both me and Jett as we run our routes. But thankfully, he must look away for a fraction of a second, because he falters, giving me an opportunity to blow past him, ready for the pass just as it gets fired in my direction. It’s a little long, so I pick up speed, adjusting just enough so that when it drops, I’m able to catch it with ease.
The football hits my hands with asmack, the sharp sting radiating through my skin even though I’m wearing a pair of leather receiving gloves. I tuck it into the crook of my arm and squeeze, because I know there’s a guy behind me, and I’ll be damned if I let him punch it out. We didn’t make it this far just to lose because of dumb mistakes.
I manage to pull away, heading straight toward the final man who stands between me and the end zone. My feet pound against the grass, heart beating wildly in my chest as pure adrenaline pumps through me. He’s fast—much faster than me on my best day—but I have one thing that he doesn’t. It’s the reason so many defenders struggleto get their hands on me, and why I’m already smiling as I approach him.
Before he even has a second to register what’s happening, I come to a halt, shifting my weight from one side to the other and juking him right out of his cleats. He tries to move with me, but I’m too quick, slipping past and crossing the plane into the end zone as the stadium erupts into cheers and boos from our respective fans. Excited energy washes over me, and I find a young Renegades fan in the front row, hopping up onto the wall and placing the ball into her little hands. A bright smile blooms across her face, the mightiest battle cry she can muster bursting from her lungs as she holds her new treasure tightly to her chest. Her blonde pigtails bounce with every excited jump she makes, and she looks up at her dad like this is the best day of her life. This is why we do what we do. Football is happiness. Love.Family. I lost track of that for a while, but being drafted by the Renegades has reminded me that this game is so much more than wins, losses, and championships. I’ll never stop being grateful for the opportunity I’ve been given with this team.
I drop down, turning to where my guys are ready to celebrate, slapping my shoulder pads and helmet as they shout in triumph. Even though we’re not in our own stadium, I swear I can hear every Clevelander in the place losing their mind as if they were standing right next to us. I can’t stop myself from wondering if Stella is watching from home, and if she’s cheering like nobody’s around, just like she used to in the stands of the Tinsville High football field. She was always my Wild Girl—win, lose, or tie. I could’ve had a hundred yards or none at all, and Iknew she’d be waiting outside that locker room with an excited smile on her face, either way.
The rest of the game is a war, a back and forth of them scoring, and us digging to the very depths of our playbook in order to answer. But when Maddox takes a particularly hard hit in the fourth quarter, fumbling the ball in the process, the resulting touchdown puts us down by fourteen with nowhere near enough time to close the gap.
We lose by seven points, our inaugural season ending before we wanted it to—but still, there’s so much to be proud of. We made history by getting to this game, and I have no doubt that we’ll be back next year, ready to go even further.
I watch as Livvy Grant, our team owner’s daughter, runs onto the field and throws her arms around Maddox’s neck. I can’t say I was too surprised when they went public with their relationship last week, but the fact that she’s been secretly coaching him all season was a bit of a shock. Not because she isn’t capable—she seems to know more about the game than all of us put together—but because they were meeting at the practice facility every single night while we all slept. That explains why he hasn’t been over to visit Austin since he had surgery. I’d be willing to bet we see a lot more of the underdog quarterback now that he isn’t trading full nights of sleep for coaching sessions with his girl…although, I’m sure she still keeps him up in other ways.
Must be nice.
“Good game, brother,” Jett says, extending a fist between us. I bump mine against it, and we both look on as his former teammates congratulate each other on theirbig win. I expect to see longing in his expression, a hint that he would rather be on that side of the field instead of this one, but it’s nowhere to be found. He’s already told us that what we’re doing here is special, and I have to say I agree. The Renegades’ time will come soon enough, and I can’t think of a better group of men to rise to the top with.
“You, too,” I reply. “A lot to look forward to next year. Mr. Grant knows what he’s doing. He’ll make some good moves for us during the offseason. And the incoming draft class is nasty, so we’ll have some fresh meat to work with when camp starts.”
A smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. “It’s only up from here, Hayes. That’ll be us before you know it,” he says, lifting his hand in a wave toward his old running back, Dalton Davis, who stands at the fifty-yard line with a pretty black-haired woman hanging from him like a koala bear. Jett laughs, shaking his head. “I’m gonna go say hi to them, but Bailey wanted to make sure I told you about the get-together at our house tomorrow night. We never really got a chance to do the wholehousewarmingthing, so we’re planning on having some of the guys and their significant others over for dinner and drinks. Seven p.m. Be there, or she’ll drag you out of your apartment kicking and screaming.”
I laugh, giving him a noncommittal hum, even though I wouldn’t miss it for the world. He bought his childhood best friend, turned soulmate, the house of her dreams, complete with a spa in the basement, so she could work from home as an esthetician. All season, we’ve been on his ass to marry the girl, but he keeps saying that everything has to be perfect first. I want to shake him and tell him thatmarriage is never perfect, and that if you wait until it is, you’re just wasting precious time. But nobody on the team knows that I’ve already been there—married and divorced at eighteen—so saying it would probably just go in one ear and out the other.
It’s only a matter of time before the secret eats away at me, and I let them all in on everything. The guys and I spent the entire season getting to know one another, and they’ve opened up to me about so many things. I know that Jett lost his parents at twelve years old, also losing Bailey in the process when he had to move across the country without warning. He missed her and thought of her every day, but it wasn’t until last year’s Super Bowl that fate brought them back together again. I know that Austin had to go through the loss of his mom and dad, as well, and has spent more time alone than is probably healthy for a human being. Since their passing, his whole life has revolved around football, and he’s struggled to find a balance. That’s why I’m so glad he has Stella. She’s reminded him to slow down and think about what’s important. I know from experience that she’s one of the easiest people to talk to, so I’m hoping that he continues to let her in and be a friend. And Theo? The guy is an open book and a mystery all at once. He’s a certified yapper, going on for hours about the amazing family he came from and the journey that led him to the NFL. One thing that I don’t understand is how he’s completely confident around every woman except for one in particular. I’m sure it won’t be long before we all figure out what separates Finley from everyone else, but I can’t say I’m not on the edge of my seat about it.
I turn away, making the walk to the locker room with my head held high. Even with all the questions regarding my personal life, I finally feel like I have a home and an amazing group of brothers in Cleveland. Now that the season is over, I’m ready to focus on the future. Can Stella and I put the past behind us, or did our story really end the day she walked away?
EIGHTEEN
STELLA
“I feellike you don’t even need me anymore,” I say to Austin as he dries the last of the dishes and sets them carefully into the cupboard. He’s been doing everything by himself, his incisions no longer require dressing changes, and his shoulder continues to get stronger every day. At just over six weeks post-op, he’s right where he should be, which is great. But it also means that my time working for him is almost up.
“I don’t know about that,” he replies. “The only reason I’m not ripping around the property on my ATV is because you won’t let me. If you leave, who’s going to stop me from doing dumb shit?”
I lean my hip into the counter, crossing my arms over my chest with a thoughtful sigh. “You know, Ihavealways wanted children. You may be the closest I ever come to that.”
He raises a brow. “Is this where you ask me to call you Mommy? Because I might have to draw the line there.” My jaw drops in disgust, and I pick up a dish towel,flinging it at him. He barks a loud laugh, putting his hands up in surrender. “I’m kidding, you menace!”
“You’re gross,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. “What are your plans for tonight? I was thinking of rotting on the couch with the latest episode of your favorite reality show if you’re interested. We can take bets on which guys are going to cry when the girls find out what they did last week.”
“Actually,” he drawls with a boyish grin. I’m pretty sure he’s trying to butter me up with that innocent expression of his, but I know better. He’s up to something. I lift a brow, urging him to continue. “As you know, the Renegades lost yesterday. Some of them are having a little get-together at our tight end, Jett Kingsley’s house, and they invited me to swing by. I’m still not sure if I should be driving now, so it would be really amazing if you’d bring me.”
I roll my eyes. “You were cleared to drive last week. Also, you literally just threatened to take yourself on a metal death-trap ride around the yard. When I started working for you, you were all about being independent and doing things by yourself. So, why don’t you tell me what you’re up to, because I’m not buying thisdamsel in distressact.”
He waves a dismissive hand. “I just think you work too hard. I know Lauren is kind of your only real friend here, and with her working nights, you can’t really go out. But I’d like to think I’m your friend, too. I just want you to enjoy yourself a little bit, Stell. My teammates and their girls are good people, and I think you’d have a great time getting to know them. Even if you aren’t going to be inCleveland much longer, don’t you at least want to take some memories with you when you go?”
If he only knew the memories I’ve already made—ones that, good or bad, I’ll never forget. From the heartbreak of seeing Emmett for the first time after so many years to the comfort and encouragement he provided when he knew I needed it most—each moment is now a part of me that I’m grateful to have. So maybe Austin isn’t all that far off with what he’s saying. It wouldn’t hurt to make some new friends.
I huff a resigned sigh, pulling my lips to the side in thought for a few seconds before I give him an answer. “Fine. Butyou’redriving. I’m living my best passenger princess life. I don’t care if it’s only a ten-minute ride.”
