Page 108 of Nothing Less Than Everything

WREN

“You ready?” Jewel squealed as we lined up along the width of the end zone.

I shook the nerves out as the crowd began to roar. The opening riff of AC/DC’s “Thunderstruck” reverberated through the speakers. The Red Cock mascot ran out of the opposite tunnel as flames roared into the sky. Sucking in a sharp breath of thirty-degree air, I let the snap of cold energize me.

I eyed the ten-yard line and waited like a horse ready to thunder out of the gate. The stadium shook as drums pounded. We took off, dancing our way down the field for the pregame show. The toes of my sexy red boots hit every single white yard line for every four beats of the music. Thirty-six of us moved with military precision, a chassé on the odd-yard lines with arms up and pom-poms held high. Chassé to the next yard line with arms down. The home crowd roared with excitement at the possibility of the Reds clinching a spot in the playoffs if they won today.

Every motion, every swing of my hips, every pump and punch was fueled by the energy around us. My feet were glued to the fifty-yard line as we moved into our triangle formation and danced the hell out of the routine.

Jewel danced to my left as we sexy walked backward into the infamous kick line. After today the Reds would be three games from the end of their season. The Ladies and I had one more home game after this. We were all kinds of exhausted, but depleted energy stocks didn’t matter when there was a packed stadium exploding in excitement.

Our kicks were higher, smiles brighter, spirits more infectious. The music crescendoed as all of us leaped into the air together and landed on the turf in the splits in perfect time.

My chest heaved with every breath after dancing my heart out for four and a half minutes straight. Jewel grinned from ear-to-ear as she waved to the crowd. “I’m gonna miss this when it’s over.”

I laughed, my breath fogging around me. “You say that at the end of every season, then by the last game you can’t wait to be done.”

We did our sexy walk off the field, keeping the fantasy in play until the last moment. Players from both teams flooded the field and began warming up. Today’s game was against a team from upstate New York. It wasn’t just a game that could determine who went to the playoffs. It was a division rivalry and, given that both teams were from New England, one where the stadium was equally packed with fans from both teams.

“No,” Jewel said as she grabbed her sports drink off the sidelines and downed a gulp. “I mean it. This is it for me.” The realization of what she meant hit me. She offered a watery smile as I picked my jaw up off my chest. “I’m done. One more game after this and I’m hanging up my boots.”

“Jewel,” I whined as I wrapped my arms around her. “You mean it? You’re ready to let all this go?” I looked around the stadium. There was nothing like the adrenaline rush.

She eyed me curiously. “I’m surprised you’re not.”

“You know why I had to come back for this season.”

“What about your knee?” She cocked her head toward it. I had flesh-colored kinesio tape practically holding it together underneath my tights. My physical therapist was going to berate me six ways from Sunday when I finally went back after the season ended.

“It’s good.”

Jewel rolled her eyes.

I tucked my poms under one arm and took a swig of water. “Seems like just yesterday we were rookies.”

She laughed. “I know. But we’re not anymore. It’s been a good run, but it’s time for whatever’s next, you know? I think I’m done putting my life on hold every six months.”

Jewel’s voice faded into the distance as Tatum walked out of the tunnel. My eardrums rattled at the noise, but I didn’t hear a thing. It was as if the world stopped turning for him.

There was a difference in Tatum in street clothes, and T.J. in full pads and those ungodly football pants. He stood taller. Held his head higher. His shoulders were miles wider. And his ass? That fine ass sculpted in crisp white fabric was mine.

“Lucky bitch,” Jewel hissed. “Can I just stand here and objectify him? I think that’s fair, right? You get to bang him, and I can stare at his ass in that uniform?”

I giggled. “Stare away, babe. It makes me look less creepy.”

Tatum had his game face on, completely focused. The moment he looked over at me, opened a gloved hand, and wiggled his pinky finger, I melted.

I picked up my pom-poms and waved to the camera that was streaming sideline action onto the jumbotron, knowing that Tatum would look up at the screen. Blowing a kiss, I flirted with the lens for another moment before the cameraman found an elderly couple decked out in Reds gear sitting on the front row. The husband planted a smacking kiss on his wife’s cheek and held his fist up, cheering like he knew he still had the prettiest girl on his arm. I looked back at Tatum again. Beneath his helmet, he was grinning and shaking his head.

“See you at halftime,” Jewel said as she gathered her ladies to take to the opposite corner of the Reds’ end zone.

* * *

Tatum was off today.I had watched him play all season, and not once had he performed like this. It wasn’t just New York’s cornerback glued to his ass. It was as if there was an invisible defender fucking with his head.

When halftime rolled around, we lined up in the tunnel for the halftime show as the boys sulked back to the locker room. Tatum didn’t look at me. Didn’t brush my hand. In fact, he switched places with one of the linemen as he passed by so that he was on the opposite side of the tunnel. Even Jewel noticed the tension that was practically vibrating off his skin.

“The fuck?” she mouthed as we took our places.

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