Page 46 of Fair Catch
“What’s going on?”
The guys around us dispersed, acting innocent as they pretended to pack things into their bags or stretch, meanwhile they were all listening.
“Zeke,” she said, walking right up to us.
The muscles of my jaw tensed, but I couldn’t find the words to tell her.
Kyle, on the other hand…
“I found your profile on Minglr,” he said, his eyes still on me as he smirked and shrugged. “And Zeke here is pissed I have more of a shot with you than he does, so he—”
I launched at him, but Holden stepped between us, catching my chest with a hand as he leveled me with a warning glare.
“Alright, that’s enough. Both of you,” he added, eyeing Kyle next.
“Why do you do this?” Riley asked Kyle, her shoulders slumping a little as she shook her head. “You’ve tried to make my life a living hell since I made the team. But then sometimes, you act like you’re my friend. So, which is it?”
Kyle was silent, avoiding her gaze.
Riley shook her head, tearing her towel off and throwing it into her locker in a wet heap. She was in nothing but wet boy shorts and an equally soaked sports bra then, and that solicited a few whistles along with most of the guys tearing their eyes away in unison.
“Riley,” I warned.
“No. I’ve had enough of this shit. Let’s settle it, once and for all.” She blew past me — past everyone — to grab a ball out of Clay’s locker before she turned to face me and Kyle again. “On the field.”
“Put some clothes on,” I said, voice low but firm.
“Why?” she asked, walking right up to us with that ball tucked between her ribs and her arm. “Because I’m a girl? You all walk around here shirtless all the time. Do you ever see me drooling or popping a fucking boner?”
A few of the guys coughed at that, and I noticed their backs were to us, and that they likely were, in fact, hiding a boner at this very second.
“Come on,” she said, shoving the ball into Kyle’s chest. “You. Me. QB1. On the field. Now.”
“I want no part in this,” Holden said.
“Too bad, we need a quarterback.” Riley said before he could argue further, and she met his gaze with a look that said you owe me.
Holden gritted his teeth, but grabbed the ball out of Kyle’s hands.
“What exactly are we doing?” Kyle asked warily.
“Simple. We’re playing a game of five hundred. Holden will call the amounts and throw the ball, whoever catches it gets those points, first to five hundred wins.”
Kyle let out a snort of a laugh like it was a fool’s game, and I had to agree. I caught Riley by the elbow and pulled her into me.
“You’re a kicker. He’s a tight end,” I reminded her. “He’s going to win.”
“Ye of little faith,” she teased, giving me a soft smile before she shrugged me off and faced Kyle again. “Well?”
“What are the terms?” Kyle asked next.
“If I win, you start treating me like an actual fucking teammate instead of a girl who doesn’t deserve to be here.” She paused. “And you have to do a dare on your Instagram Live. Whatever me and the rest of the team come up with.”
That made some of the guys chuckle and nudge each other, giddy with the possibilities.
Kyle made a face. “And if I win?”
Riley shrugged. “I’ll have sex with you.”
The locker room erupted, and my blood boiled over as my arm shot out for her again. She tore away from me before I had the chance to pull her in, her eyes connecting with mine only a brief second.
“I got this,” she mouthed.
“The coach’s meeting is only going to last another twenty minutes if we’re lucky,” Holden said. “So, if we’re doing this, we’re doing it now.”
Riley looked at Kyle, challenge in her eyes, and everything inside me prayed he’d see how fucked up this was, that he should just apologize and stop being a little twat and put an end to all of this.
But of course, the bastard smiled, extended his hand and said, “Game on.”
Riley
“This is a bad idea.”
I rolled my eyes at Zeke’s tenth attempt to get me to change my mind as I stretched and did some tuck jumps to get my hamstrings ready. Other than working drills or conditioning with Coach, sprints off the line weren’t exactly my forte.
Still, I wasn’t worried.
Confidence buzzed through me like I’d just taken a shot of it, like it was warming me the way a bottle of whiskey would.
“I’ve got more game than you give me credit for,” I said.
“He’s a tight end. He’s twice your size.”
“Well, if he wins, then I’ll get a little stress relief.” I turned on him then. “Which is what you said I need, right? Sounds like a win-win to me.”
