Page 48 of Fair Catch
Cheers erupted.
“Fuck yeah, Novo!”
“Atta girl!”
“We got a game now!”
I smiled, heart racing as we jogged back, and Kyle glared at me when we made it back to the line.
“You think you’re cute? That’s the last time that trick will work, trust me,” he warned.
I just shrugged innocently, throwing the ball back to Holden as both he and Zeke looked at me with a million questions in their eyes.
“Let’s go,” I said, ignoring both of them.
Holden shook his head, clearly still not liking his involvement, but after a long breath, he clapped the ball, and off we went.
One catch was all it took for me to get my mojo. I caught the next one for fifty points, and then the next two balls were drops. Kyle caught another for one hundred, and then I caught one for three hundred.
And we were tied.
And exhausted.
And both determined to win.
“Alright, last ball,” Holden told us before we’d even left the line. “It’ll be fifty points. Keep it clean,” he warned again.
A breath.
A shiver.
And then a distant, “Hike!”
I sprinted as hard as I could, straight forward, not bothering with running a full route. Kyle did the same, and we lined up a few feet away from each other, not sure where the ball would go.
When Holden launched it, the wind caught the ball, and it sailed up and left. I sprinted after it, and I knew before I even reached out for it that it was mine. I was on target, I was going to make it right under, it was mine.
I sprinted with my heart pounding in my ears, kicking hard off the turf and reaching out.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, I was hit.
I lost my breath, lost my balance, lost everything as the hit shocked me and sent me to the ground in a crushing sound of bones against the hard earth.
Distantly, I recognized the collective oohhh that came from the guys watching, but everything went black for a second, and by the time I came to…
It was a brawl.
Kyle held the ball victoriously, claiming he’d won, while Holden, Leo, and Clay threatened him within an inch of his life and called him out for a dirty pass interference.
“I barely touched her!”
“You shoved her so hard she hit the ground, you fucking douche,” Clay argued, snatching the ball out of Kyle’s hands. “She’s not wearing pads. You could have really hurt her.”
It was then that I realized I was warm and cradled, and my eyelids fluttered as I looked up at who was holding me.
Zeke.
His jaw was set, neck thick with emotion as his nostrils flared.
There was so much in his gaze… too much. It set fire to my belly, the raw protectiveness rolling off him in plumes.
And something else.
Something I couldn’t quite grasp.
I swallowed, leaning up and fighting against the urge to wince. I knew if I did, the game would be done.
“I’m fine,” I said, starting to stand.
Zeke stopped me, holding me tighter. “You hit the ground hard. You went lights out.” He shook his head. “We’re done with this shit.”
“No,” I said, wriggling out of his hold and climbing to my feet. “No, it’s not over.”
I looked at Holden next, who was still glaring at Kyle like he was a bug that needed smashing.
“Again,” I said.
Every pair of eyes flicked to me, jaws dropping in unison as I jogged back to the line.
Holden and Zeke were on my tail in the next minute.
“You shouldn’t do anything after that,” Holden warned. “You might have a con—”
“I didn’t hit my head,” I shot back. “It hurt like hell, yes, but I’m fine. Look,” I said, doing a little dance to illustrate. “You have all taken harder hits and got right back on the line.”
“With pads on,” Zeke reminded me.
I shrugged. “The game isn’t over. Come on. Again.”
I looked at Kyle then, who was just rejoining us. It seemed like slow motion as he winked at me, the corner of his mouth curling up when he took his spot on the line.
I swallowed, turning my attention down the field as I blew out a long, slow breath.
You’ve got this.
This is your ball.
This is your catch.
This is your win.
Holden gritted his teeth, clearly unhappy as he clapped the ball hard, not even bothering to add a verbal cue.
We sprinted down, and every rib and joint in my body ached from the fall as I tried to keep up with Kyle. He got down faster than me this time, and he didn’t have to foul me, didn’t have to even try to line up perfectly under the ball.
My breath caught in my throat, a gasp of a no soft on my lips.
But then…
The ball tipped his fingers, bouncing high into the air.
His eyes went wide, and he reached up to try to grab it, to try to correct the bobble, but it was too late.
