Page 125 of Play Fake
Back in the locker room, chaos has ensued. Music blasting, and Coach yelling over the noise with that proud grin.
But as I’m peeling off my pads, I glance toward the trainers’ area. Logan’s sitting on the table, his right leg stretched out, a trainer prodding at it. He’s grinning like he just won the lottery, but he’s wincing every other second.
I jog over, towel slung around my neck. “You good?”
He shoots me that familiar cocky grin. “Yeah, man. Just a Charlie horse.”
The trainer gives him a skeptical look, but Logan beats him to it. “I’m fine. Seriously. Just a cramp. Nothing I can’t stretch out.”
I don’t buy it. Not for a second. But this is Logan, stubborn as shit, determined to prove he’s invincible when scouts might be watching.
I clap his shoulder, meeting his eyes. “You played like a beast today.”
“Damn right I did,” he says, grinning wider. But when he shifts off the table, he’s limping hard.
He waves off the trainer again, swagger still in place even as he drags that leg toward the showers.
As the locker room starts to empty out, I sit back for a second, helmet resting on my knee, the adrenaline finally fading. The win feels good—great, even. But the image of Logan limping off, refusing help, sticks in the back of my mind.
Football’s his whole world. And if that leg’s worse than he’s letting on…
I exhale slowly, glancing toward the exit where I know Sophie will be waiting. One thing at a time. But yeah, I’ll definitely be keeping an eye on him.
41
BECK
The sky’s still streaked with pale blue and gold when I finally make it out of the locker room. The sun’s already dipping lower, casting long shadows across the parking lot. Sophie’s waiting by the gate in her cheer jacket, pom-poms tucked away, hair loose now.
The second she spots me, she lights up, her grin making those blue eyes sparkle even more than normal.
“Nice game, Harrison,” she says when I reach her, bumping my shoulder lightly.
“Not bad yourself,” I tease. “I saw those back handsprings in the third quarter. Might’ve been the highlight of the day.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “Smooth.”
Normally, after a win, the team heads to some packed house party where the music’s loud, the beer’s warm, and someone inevitably ends up jumping into a pool fully clothed. But as soon as she slips her hand into mine, I know I don’t want any of that tonight.
“Wanna skip the party?” I ask.
Her brows lift. “Yeah?”
I nod toward the lot. “Yeah. Let’s go for a drive.”
We end up on a quiet back road just outside of town, windows cracked, music low. The early evening light filters through the trees, golden and soft. Sophie’s kicked off her white sneakers and has her feet propped up on the dash, humming along to whatever’s playing on my phone.
It’s easy—just the two of us talking about nothing and everything. Her day, the game, the wedding coming up next weekend. She starts listing off all the things she and Ava still need to finish for her sister, and I just listen, stealing glances at her when I can.
Eventually, I pull off onto a small gravel path that opens into an empty field. It’s quiet out here—just the sound of wind brushing through dry grass and a few birds settling in for the evening. I park the truck, turn the engine off, and for a moment, we just sit there watching the sky fade from blue to orange.
“This is nice,” she says softly.
“Yeah,” I say, taking in nothing about the field around us, but everything about her. “It is.”
I hop out of the cab and open the back. The bed of my truck’s empty, perfect for what I have in mind. I grab my phone, scrolling for a second until a soft, easy song fills the air.
Sophie leans against the side, curious. “What are you doing?”
