Page 87 of Hey, Stepbro

I run a hand through my hair. "It's just... I hope I haven't been too much of a distraction for Brock this semester."

"Don't be ridiculous," Stella replies, nudging me with her elbow. "Brock loves you. Besides, he's a grown man who can balance football and romance."

"Exactly," Waxley chimes in, tossing another peanut into his mouth. "If anything, you're probably his good luck charm."

I force a smile, their reassurances offering a small token of comfort. Of course, I want to believe that everything will be fine, but until I see Brock in action, the worry continues to gnaw at me.

"Okay, okay," I admit, trying to push my fears aside. "I only hope Brock plays well tonight even though I've been a distraction this semester."

Waxley snorts. "Do you think you and Brock had too much sex for him to be good at football anymore?"

Stella joins him, her laughter ringing out like a bell. "Yeah, that must be it. Your dick has totally thrown him off his game."

"Very funny," I retort, rolling my eyes as I toss a peanut shell at them.

I know they're only teasing me, but it doesn't completely alleviate my anxiety. The weight of my worries still rests heavy on my chest like the peanut shells must feel to an ant on the ground.

Stella’s laughter subsides as she looks at me with genuine affection. "Brock knows how to run his life. He's got this."

Waxley nods in agreement, his rainbow pins glinting in the stadium lights. "Besides, dick makes you focus." He winks, and I chuckle at his cheekiness.

"Alright." The corners of my mouth twitch. "Let's focus on cheering for our favorite football player."

"Absolutely." Stella claps her hands together in excitement. "Time to get ready to scream our lungs out."

"Attention, ladies and gentlemen!" booms the announcer's voice, echoing throughout the outdoor stadium. The sound vibrates through my chest, the intensity of it making me shiver with anticipation. "The moment you've all been waiting for has arrived! Please welcome the Riverside Rawdogs and the Des Moines Bluejays!"

The crowd erupts into cheers, and a surge of adrenaline steamrolls through my veins. I grip the edge of my seat, my knuckles turning white. This is it—the big game that Brock has been training for all season.

I glance up at the sky, watching as the leaves from nearby maple trees shake loose, floating gently down onto the field like confetti. Damn—the announcer’s voice must’ve shaken them here. Their vibrant colors stand out against the green grass, painting a vivid picture of autumn in full swing.

"Come on, Brock," I whisper under my breath, sending a silent prayer out into the universe. "You've got this."

"Let's go, Rawdogs!" Stella shouts beside me, her enthusiasm infectious.

Waxley joins in, his voice a pitch higher and equally as spirited. I try to steady my nerves as I join them in cheering for our team.

"You got this, Brock!" we chant together, our voices blending into the cacophony of support for the players below. The energy pulses around us, the excitement tangible in the air.

The Rawdogs burst onto the field, sending electricity through the stadium. Their toned muscles and confident strides exude an air of determination that's undeniably attractive.

"Damn, they look good," Stella comments, her gaze lingering on the players as well.

"Yep, definitely eye candy," Waxley agrees with a teasing grin.

I focus on Brock, watching his every move. He's focused, determined, and ready to crush the Bluejays.

"See?" Waxley nudges me. "He's on fire tonight. You had nothing to worry about."

"Seriously," Stella adds, her eyes shining with pride. "Brock is unstoppable."

Brock’s bright blue eyes scan the field like a hawk. It's clear he's in the zone, ready to give this game everything he's got.

As if sensing my gaze, Brock suddenly locks eyes with me from across the field.

Time stops.

A thrill runs through me as he raises a hand to his lips.

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