by KB Winters
Rayna was too busy scanning through images of Ross to glance up. “So, he’s hot, rich, and famous? What was he even doing at Aunt Maggie’s? I mean, don’t get me wrong, the food is the bomb, but it doesn’t seem like the A-list type of place a pro baller would hang out.”
I shrugged. “He was studying his playbook. He doesn’t really seem like the flashy type.”
“Hmm.” Rayna glanced up. “So, this was a few days ago. Have you talked to him since then?”
I shook my head. “No. He left me his number on the back of his receipt, but I haven’t called him.”
“Why not?” Rayna demanded, her voice booming around the interior of the car.
“’Cause I’m a chicken.”
Rayna sighed. “Shelby, Shelby, Shelby. What am I going to do with you? You go off to Yale and you’re supposed to have all these amazing adventures, but instead, you spend the entire time in the library. Now, you’re back home and free from all the school shit, but you’re still playing it safe!”
“Come on, Rayn. You’ve known me forever. Are you really surprised?”
She giggled. “No.”
“I didn’t know what to say. Besides, I’m the girl. He’s supposed to call me.”
“Does he have your number?”
I fidgeted in my seat.
Rayna laughed. “You could have texted. That’s safer.”
I couldn’t argue. I’d thought about it more than I’d liked to have admitted, but when it came down to sending it—I’d re-read the message, decide it was lame, and promptly delete it.
“All right, so what’s the plan? We’re going to the game and then what?”
“I don’t really know. I’ve never done this before. That’s why I brought you.”
“So, I’m your dating coach?”
I shot her a sideways grin and replied, “Something like that.”
“Will you do everything I say?”
I laughed. “Within reason.”
“Hmm. All right.”
“First, we have to sit through a football game where I’m pretty sure we will both be completely dazed and confused—and frozen. What’s the temperature anyway?”
“Friggin’ cold! Did you wear your cuddle duds?”
“Hell yeah! And brought a couple of blankets for my ass. I’m sure those seats are frozen.”
“Luckily, the stadium sells booze. Maybe they have hot toddies. Isn’t that half the point of football anyway? Fast food and a few drinks?”
“Trade mine for a glass of rosé and we’ll talk.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Our exit was approaching, and I clicked on my blinker before moving into the other lane. There was another question I wanted to ask Rayna while we were still alone. I gave her a cautious glance. “Heard from Hudson lately?”
Rayna was still looking down at her phone, but I could see a play of emotions flicker over her delicate features at the mention of her brother’s name. “He calls once a week, and I go out there to visit once a month or so. Whenever I can.”
My chest clenched, wanting to know more but afraid to ask. “How is he?” I asked, my tone low.
Rayna leaned forward and tossed the phone back into her purse and then leaned back with a heavy sigh. “He’s hanging in there as best he can. As far as I can tell, he hasn’t gotten tangled up with anyone bad.”
My fingers worked the steering wheel as I nodded. “That’s good.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m still waiting on my bar exam results, but if I pass—and I really hope I did— I’ll start my job at the public defender’s office at the beginning of the year.”
Rayna rolled her head against the seat to look at me. She offered a weak smile. “Thanks, Shelby. Hudson and I appreciate everything you’re doing.”
“Well, I haven’t really done anything yet.”
“Yeah, but you will. And you believe in him. That’s more than most people at this point.”
The sadness in her words broke my heart into two. “Your parents—”
“Are a lost cause. They don’t know what to do.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m sorry, Rayna.”
She shrugged. “Yeah, but they tried.”
I rolled to a stop at a traffic light and looked over at Rayna. The pain on her face was there, despite her words. She might want to pretend everything was fine, that she didn’t care, but I could see the lines etched around her eyes, making her appear several years older than she really was. Her hands rested in her lap and I pat the backs of them. “We’re going to get him out, Rayn. I swear.”
She bit her lower lip between her teeth and nodded. Her green eyes filled with tears, and I felt a stab of guilt for even saying anything about Hudson. It wasn’t my intention to hurt her, but anytime we spoke of Hudson, she got that way. There wasn’t a way around it. At least, not that I’d found.
The light changed, and I followed the massive line of cars heading for the entrance of the underground lot closest to the stadium. It was slow going, especially with my heart still slamming around inside my chest, partially for Rayna and Hudson and partially for Ross and the endless possibilities for the evening that lay ahead.
“I might not know anything about football, but it seems like these are pretty good seats,” Rayna commented as we checked the tickets in our hands and compared them to the marked seat numbers in front of us.
“Not bad. Now, we just have to fit in with everyone else. Cheer when the crowd cheers, yell when they yell, you know, that kind of thing. But only for the Knights.”
Rayna laughed and warmth rushed over me at the sound. It had taken her a minute to shake off the darkness from our brief conversation in the car, but she was smiling and seemed at ease once again. “I think we deserve a little more credit than that.”
“My dad watched football. But I’ve never found the attention span for it.”
“Until you met Ross,” she retorted, waggling a finger at me.
My cheeks flushed, and I gave a quick look over each shoulder, wondering if anyone had overheard Rayna. I didn’t know why it mattered, it wasn’t like I knew any of the people around us, but I looked anyway.
Rayna rolled her eyes. “Don’t be such a Pollyanna, Shelby. It’s okay to like a guy.”
“I know that,” I argued.
Rayna selected a nacho from the paper plate in her lap and popped one of the cheese-coated chips into her mouth. “Want some?”
My stomach rolled at the look of the congealed cheese. “No thanks.”
“You’re such a snob,” Rayna teased, her eyes dancing with mischief as she reached for another chip. “Sorry, the stadium doesn’t stock caviar or pâté.”
I laughed and shoved her playfully. “You are such a brat.”
She stuck her tongue out.
“Be nice, or I won’t ask Ross to introduce you to any of his friends.”
Rayna laughed. “Yeah, that’s just what I need, a boy toy.”
I opened my mouth to fire off another smartass response but stopped short. I knew the reason why Rayna wasn’t interested in dating. Ever since Hudson went away, she’d had a hard time moving on and enjoying herself. Most of the time she was too busy working at the two jobs she held down to even go out for a drink. I didn’t realize how bad it was until I’d moved back a few months ago. When I was away at college, I was too busy to notice, and we’d go weeks without talking. Now that I was back in town, it was glaringly obvious how out of touch she’d become.
Before I could think of anything to say, the announcer started to go over the opening ceremony. Or whatever the hell it was called. All I knew was that the breath in my lungs hitched when he called Ross’s name.
6
Ross
Peters broke his ankle.
Those four words had rearranged my entire life.
First, Brandon went down on the field. The next day at our practice facility, Peters hit a nasty patch of ice going up a set of concrete steps and busted his ankle. Both of t
hem were out for the postseason, and it was down to one man to carry the team.
Me.
The pack of media hounds’ questions were still ringing in my ears. But I’d managed to avoid watching any TV or listen to the radio or even check the weather. Nope, none of that mattered—the only thing that mattered was how I played on the field today.
We were less than fifteen minutes from taking the field. I sat in front of my locker and glanced around the room at my teammates going through their final routines of checking their equipment. Some were leaning against their lockers and others were pacing the floor. One thing was clear, all eyes were on me. I was far from a rookie player on the team, but I had yet to take a snap all season. The only time I ever played in the regular season was two years ago, when we had a 47-6 lead, and they brought in me to take a knee with 34 seconds left on the clock. Now, I was the starting quarterback.
I closed my eyes and ran through plays in my head, but the only one that kept replaying in my mind? The one that told me I couldn’t do this.
I was fucked.
Totally fucking fucked.
“Leverette?” Coach’s clipped bark broke through the sea of echoes in my head. I glanced his way. “If you’re gonna puke, get it the hell over with, already.”
My stomach was rolling and twisting, but I hadn’t been able to eat. I was running on sheer adrenaline and caffeine. There was nothing in my system to throw up. Which was probably for the best. “I’m good, Coach.”
It was a lie. A whopper of one. But I could feel every man around me. Their eyes were glued to me. Watching every move. Their ears perked for any sign of weakness. All their hopes and dreams were now pinned on me.
Coach stepped to my side and studied me. I held my breath as his fierce eagle eyes raked over my face. “Come on, son.”
We were all suited up, minutes away from going down the tunnel, but I didn’t argue. I followed Coach a few yards away from where the rest of the team huddled, ignoring their whispers and stares.
“All right, Leverette. I know this is fucked up,” Coach started, shaking his head as though he were still just as shell-shocked by the news of Peters as I was. “But we’re still in this thing. I know you haven’t seen any time on the field, but that isn’t because I think you’re some kind of shit player.”
I forced myself to keep Coach’s fierce gaze. “I know that, Coach.”
“Good. I know you can do this. And you’re not alone. Every one of those guys out there has seen what you’re capable of. Your name gets buzzed around more often than not. Sure, Brandon is the star, the big man, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t just as capable as he is. We all know what you can do, and we need you to show everyone else.” Coach slapped me on the shoulder and a smile spread across his face, warming the hard look in his eyes. “Son, you know what we have? The element of surprise. No one out there knows what you can do. The Vultures are thinking this is gonna be a fuckin’ cakewalk. But we’re going to go out there and show them that not only is our season not over, but we’re fighting tooth and nail for our shot to keep going. And you, you are going to lead that charge. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good man.” He patted my shoulder once more, harder this time, as though hoping he could physically knock some of his pep talk into my body. “Let’s go.”
Without waiting, he stalked back to the rest of the team. “Huddle up, gents.”
Beaumonster led the team out of the tunnel, and the crowd came alive. It had been snowing on and off for the last several days, and today was no exception. The near-zero temperature made things downright ugly. When I reached the sidelines, I grabbed a ball and started throwing passes with one of our receivers to stay warm. My eyes scanned the packed house and zoomed in on the seats I’d given to Shelby.
On top of everything else, I knew there was a good chance she’d be there watching me. I hadn’t heard from her since slipping her my number at the diner but had held out hope she’d still show up for the game. Only now, I worried I was going to fall flat on my face in front of her.
“Head down. Keep your shit together, Leverette.”
I rolled my shoulders back and down, turning a steely eyed glare to the field as both teams got set. The crowd was buzzing, the thundering noise protecting my heart before it could careen right out of my chest. It was hard to pick out individual faces from the crowd, between the lights, noise, colorful signs and pom-poms, but I turned a watchful eye to the section where the seats they had given me were. My heart hammered when I spotted Shelby standing with the rest of the crowd as we prepared to take the field. At first, I couldn’t tell if she was watching me or not, but when she wiggled her fingers and flashed a bright smile, there was no doubt.
“Leverette!”
I jolted at Coach’s snapped command. “For fuck’s sake, Leverette. Get your head in the game. Coin toss. Center field. Defer and take the south if we win the toss. Let’s go.”
“Right, yeah. Coming, Coach.”
I shook my head and jogged out onto the field along with my co-captain, the Beaumonster. As the referee went through his instructions, I took one last look around and soaked it all in. Today was going to make or break my career, but either way, I was here now and planned to leave everything on the field of battle. The air was frosty, and it looked like the meteorologist’s promise of more snow and ice was going to come true. I just hoped it would hold out for a little while longer.
By the two-minute warning late in the fourth quarter, the icy air materialized into powdered snow and the field was coated in frost. Both teams had multiple turnovers and equally struggled to move the ball down the field. The fans were out of it. As I glanced into the stands, I saw lots of folks heading for the exits. By some miracle, we were only down by four points, two minutes left on the game clock. We had the ball first and ten at our own twenty-five-yard line. I’d played all right up to this point, considering the weather and everything. I knew all eyes were on me.
I was looking over plays from our two-minute drill when Beauman pushed his way through the group of players and coaches surrounding me. “You good, man?” He asked as he bounced in place beside me, rubbing his hands together to keep them warm.
I raised my own and blew a puff of hot air into them. “Yeah, man, I’m good.”
“We got this in the bag,” he said, channeling some sort of internal fountain of optimism that I couldn’t access.
I gave him a weak smile as he jogged off. Coach Wheeler came over and gave me the once over; he had a calmness about him that relaxed my nerves. “Listen, Leverette, you have hung in there like a pro today. I couldn’t have asked for more. We got two minutes on the clock and about 20,000 fans left that would love to see you rock this place. Forget it’s minus three degrees, forget that the field has turned into an ice skating rink, and whatever you do, don’t think about the piece of ass you keep looking up at in the stands over there. It’s time to go out there and play the goddamn game you love so much. Leave the B.S. right here, play smart, and don’t give up the fuckin’ football.”
It was now or never. Man the fuck up or go home.
As I waited for play to resume, I tossed a glance over my shoulder and a blast of warmth spread through me when I saw that Shelby was still up in the stands. It was hard to be certain as the snow came down harder, but she was easy to spot. Most of the fans in her section had headed for the exits a while ago. She was there, smiling and clapping with the other diehard fans who would stick out every last second—frost or no frost.
We quickly moved the ball up the field and with twenty-eight seconds left on the clock, I hit Paul Anderson on a post route down to the Vultures twenty-yard line. We were out of timeouts and the clock was ticking. I quickly lined up my team and then looked up at the clock. This was it—last play. I took the snap and dropped back to pass.
I looked to the left and then to the right. There weren’t any options. Two of my receivers lost their footing and were on the ground.
There was only one person they weren’t on top of...
Me.
I tucked the ball in tight and took off like I’d just hitched a ride on a cruise control missile. My target—the end zone. I dodged the Vultures as they scrambled to catch me. I could almost see the shock on their faces as I cruised by. I was a nobody. A fuckin’ stand-in. I wasn’t supposed to be able to run a quarterback keeper in clutch time.
I took on a huge middle linebacker head on and sent him flying as I crossed the goal line for the winning score. Nobody saw that coming. I roared a cheer of victory as I ran along the back of the end zone. I didn’t have a fancy touchdown dance, so I did a victory lap as the crowd came alive cheering our first playoff victory.
My shoulder would hurt in the morning from that hit, but I didn’t give a damn. It was more than worth it.
7
Shelby
Even though I knew nothing about football, I found myself swept up in the excitement of the final few minutes. When Ross landed in the end zone, I burst out into a deafening cheer with the rest of the crowd.
“Damn! Your man has balls!” Rayna hollered beside me.
“Right? I can’t believe he won!” I shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around me. “Damn! It’s cold!”
Rayna tugged on her blanket. “All right, girl. I’m out of here. You have fun tonight.”
“You bailing already?”
“Hell, yeah.” She plucked a wayward strand of hair out of her lip gloss. We were under the protection of an overhang, but the wind and snow could still whip through and catch us. “I have to get up early and the traffic is going to be ridiculous. Plus, my ass is frozen. It’s too fucking cold out here. I don’t know how you talked me into this. I’m gonna grab an Uber and get home.”
My eyebrows knit together. “No. I can totally give you a ride.”
She waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it. I want you to have fun tonight. You deserve it.” She leaned in and gave me a quick embrace before she re-wrapped the blanket around herself and headed back up the stairs that led to the nearest exit. I followed her with my eyes, and she gave me a little wave before ducking through the doorway and disappearing.
