Page 5 of Fair Catch
He muttered a few more things before finally sucking his teeth and waving a hand at me. I breathed a sigh of relief that he’d finally given up.
Until he turned back to his phone with a smirk and said, “Must be that time of the month.”
I froze, arms falling to my sides as he yucked it up, elbowing another player I didn’t recognize who laughed right along with him. I cracked my neck, ready to lay into that little brat, but didn’t get my chance before he was shoved from behind.
Kyle stumbled forward, shocked for only a moment before he turned, pissed off and ready to fight.
And found Zeke Collins standing behind him.
Zeke was shorter than Kyle by at least two inches, but that didn’t stop him from puffing his chest and making Kyle shrink away from his murderous gaze. I’d seen that stare pinned on his victims more times than I could count, and even when it wasn’t aimed at me, it sent a shiver down my spine.
Zeke was a freshman, just like me, but he had a reputation that far preceded him — and not the way I did.
I was known because I was a girl in a male-dominated sport. He was known because he was the number one special teams recruit in the nation.
It infuriated me, the kind of respect he got compared to what I was afforded.
In the months since we’d graduated from high school, Zeke had filled out, transitioning from a boy into a young man in what felt like overnight. He was stacked, his shoulders wide, brown arms rippled in muscles, legs like tree stumps where they held him strong and tall. His black hair that used to be worn short was longer now, styled in a tight fade with sharp designs etched into the side, and one to match sliced right over his right eyebrow.
And I remembered why I avoided him at all cost — not just because I hated him, but because no amount of hate could stop my eyes from drinking in everything about him, or my traitorous body from warming at his nearness.
“What the fuck, bro?” Kyle said, still recording as he went chest to chest with Zeke. “You got a problem?”
“No, but I will if you don’t have some respect and listen when someone tells you they don’t want to be on your pathetic show.”
“It’s not a show,” Kyle sneered. “It’s an Instagram Live. And I can put whoever I goddamn please on it.”
“That so?”
What happened next was so fast I couldn’t catalog all of it, but somehow, Kyle’s phone ended up in Zeke’s hand, and then it was thrown halfway down the field.
Kyle cried out like it was his first born and not a mobile device in a highly protective case. Then, he immediately turned and shoved Zeke, who must have braced for it, because he barely moved from the force I knew was brutal.
Zeke didn’t knock Kyle back. He just stepped into him, looking up at him like he wasn’t even a little intimidated by an established player who was taller and bigger than he was.
“She’s a girl. We get it. You think you’re fucking funny for cracking jokes about it? You think that makes you big and bad?” He shook his head. “Grow up, man. This is college football. And she,” he said, pointing to me. “Is your teammate.”
Kyle swallowed, his eyes flicking to me and back to Zeke.
He didn’t apologize, but he also didn’t argue further. Instead, he eyed Zeke up and down with a look that promised he would pay for what he did, then Kyle jogged off toward where his phone was thrown.
I realized then how much we were being watched when a sudden return to movement happened, silence being filled by people talking or continuing their stretching. I noticed, too, that Zeke got a respectful nod from Holden, a nod that said Holden had his back.
I narrowed my gaze.
“I can handle myself.”
Zeke arched a brow, tucking his helmet between his hip and forearm as he turned to face me. “You say that like I don’t already know.”
“Then don’t fight my battles for me.”
“I wasn’t fighting anything. He was acting like a dick, and I made sure he knew it. It’s camp, and the only thing anyone should be focused on is football.”
“Exactly. It’s camp. And this is my one shot to prove I deserve a spot on this team just as much as anyone else.” I stepped into his space, poking him hard in the chest. “The last thing I need is another team joking about you being my protective older brother.”
“They’re not saying that.”
I arched a brow with pursed lips.
“They’re saying I’m your protective boyfriend.”
His cocky smirk pissed me off almost as much as what he’d just said, and I growled, glancing around to make sure Coach still wasn’t on the field before I shoved him.
