Page 98 of My Secret Bandit

“I thought a cute face would make you feel better,” Xander said with half a smile as he took the seat next to me. “And I brought Mills just ’cause.”

“Hey!” She giggled, bumping into his chest.

“It’s just what I needed. Thank you.” I pulled the little girl into my lap and pointed out her uncle when she asked where he was. “How’s Ben?” I asked.

My entire body cringed.

I knew the answer probably mimicked something pretty close to how I felt, but ten—maybe even a hundred—times worse. They say nothing brings out the crazy like messing with a mama’s cubs. All the action Mateo had gotten so far was sure to have Benny ready to go grizzly on the field below us.

“She’s good for now. Let’s just hope she doesn’t cross paths with officials or anyone who even looks like they’re wearing a Lonestars jersey after the game.”

Needing a break from the game, we gave Amelia a tour of the press box. Xander even convinced the defensive coordinator, Coach Bell to give Mateo his headset so she could tell him she loved him and that he was doing great.

It was too cute of a moment not to document. Phone out, I snapped a picture of Amelia kneeling on the table. Her precious little face up against the glass, staring out at her uncle on the field with the massive headset holding down her curls and a smile that matched.

After Mateo handed the headset back to his coach, his entire presence shifted so much it was visible from where we stood. With a renewed, more focused sense of energy, he bounced on his tiptoes and shook out his arms. His neck rolled, loosening himself to take the field again. He got into his stance and for four straight plays, he had a burning hot fire under his ass. Two sacks, a blocked pass, and a tackle that left the tight end back on his ass and slow to get up. Raised on a successful blend of discipline, compassion, and respect, Mateo held out a hand to help the guy only to end up getting it slapped away.

What a bitch! Knee him in the balls!

Mm… nope. Reel it back in, Jamie.

Okay.

I was probably a little too emotionally invested to appear even remotely professional, but fuck it. As long as I kept my cool during the press conference and followed it with a decent write-up, it didn’t really matter how excited I got watching Mateo hand these guys their asses, right?

We helped Amelia load up a plate of goodies from the snack table before they went back to the team’s family suite.

“Text me if you need us to come back,” Xander smiled as I gave the girl a quick kiss to the top of her head. They left hand in hand just as the half-time clock started.

The second half continued a lot like the first, but with some actual scoring. Lonestars started off early by getting two back-to-back touchdowns on their drives.

Jordan Abel and company answered those two, adding one more for good measure.

The shoving and shit talking continued. It started trickling among players on both sides of the ball when a Texas defender landed a late hit on Jordan, leaving him limping to the sideline and the backup QB taking his place.

The animosity in the air acted like a smothering fog as the two-minute warning sounded, and the teams huddled on opposite sides.

After the ref blew the whistle, both teams gathered on the field. Trying their hardest to make up as many points as possible with the limited time, Texas offense settled into their formation.

Taylor, set up on the outside, trained his focus on the running back as he bounced away from the outstretched hands of the diving lineman. With the ball tucked against his ribs, he ran closer to the sideline. A foot from stepping out, Taylor wrapped his arms around the man’s hips, lifted him up, and slammed him to the ground.

Unfazed, he jumped up and immediately knocked his helmet against Taylor’s. With no one currently provoking him, Mateo was the first at his friend’s side, trying to break the two up while refs whistled and ran over.

My heart pounded in my ears, anticipated doom pricked at my skin, and my gut twisted harder than it had all day. Something didn’t feel right.

I watched him, tears blurring my vision as he pushed Taylor into the waiting arms of Coach Bell, who pulled him further back and down the sideline. Mateo turned his attention to the still red-hot running back who tried to charge after Taylor. Mateo gripped his shoulders, keeping him from going further.

Just when the running back’s shoulder pads slumped, the same goddamn tight end came barreling in. With a long, solid body focused on only doing harm, he dove full force and smashed his shoulder into Mateo’s leg. He fell to the ground; his gut-wrenching yell audible throughout the stadium.

Breathless, I watched the swarm of white and navy jerseys as they crowded around him. Everyone pushing, shoving and swinging fists. My stomach dropped straight into my ass and I fought the need to make yet another dash for the restroom.

I had nothing left.

So, I stood there. Paralyzed.

Talking to every deity I knew of that someone pulled him from the bottom of that pile.

With whistles blaring referees, coaches and players moved around, pushing guys back, slowly clearing out the mass of men.

---