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I can’t think of a single word to say to her. I’m too beguiled by how incredibly flawless she is.
Absolute perfection.
I’m vaguely aware that Mitch and Noah are walking past us.
And that Coach is coming over to us and he doesn’t look particularly happy.
The girl flits over to him, standing on her toes to give Coach a kiss on the cheek. “Hi, Dad.”
Dad?
Holy fuck.
No.
No.
She gives us a little wave and follows Coach inside.
I watch her until the door closes behind her and she disappears from view. With her glow gone now, the stadium seems darker. It registers that the sun is in the process of setting.
Gabriel is giving me a look. “No way in hell.”
And I’m giving him a look. “My amygdala is officially on overdrive.”
“Elias. Absolutely not. Be reasonable.”
I’m fucked and we both know it.
Gabriel sums it up perfectly as I glance back once more, but she’s gone now. “Oh, fuck.”
* * *
All the way back to the house, Gabe continues his attempt to talk some sense into me. He reminds me of how much is at stake this year. How my chances of going high in the draft are all but assured if I can play like I’ve been playing. How important it is that I keep my focus razor-sharp.
Like I don’t know all of this already.
My mind is a blur, retracing every perfect detail of her while at the same time fully realizing that I have far too much to lose to even think about going near her. I’m the starting quarterback for a championship-winning division one team. My dreams of going pro, which I’ve been working toward my entire life, are about to become a reality.
And there’s no doubt in my mind that Coach Fox will kick me off the team if I so much as breathe in his gorgeous little daughter’s general direction.
The slam of the door surprises me. I slammed it. I’m not usually the kind to lose my cool, but this is something else entirely. My brain is stuck on a loop. Of Zara Fox standing there in her tight little t-shirt blowing my mind and looking like she just materialized out of all my wildest dreams.
During my late-night fantasies, I never managed to draw a picture in my mind. I couldn’t have created a more perfect vision if I’d tried.
She’s real and she’s here, taunting me with her existence.
West is at the kitchen table, cramming food into his mouth while leafing through a playbook. The tension between me and Gabe is easy to read and it gets West’s full attention as soon as we walk through the door.
“What’s up?” West’s says with a mouthful.
“We have a huge fucking problem on our hands, that’s what’s up.” Gabe announces. Which seems sort of melodramatic but the “we” doesn’t escape me. These guys are my brothers. My team. They’ve got my back and it’s what I love most about them. Social media calls the four of us the “Hawthorne Band of Brothers” because the four of us are so in sync when we play football.
But it’s just as true off the field. We’re in this together. They won’t let me fuck up my future, not only because it’s their future too but also because they genuinely care about me.
But damn, the temptation of Zara Fox is like being hit by a wrecking ball. I’ve been stranded in a wasteland of a drought the likes of which I’ve never known, all summer long, and she’s the most glorious oasis I’ve ever fucking seen.
My mouth feels parched. My raging lust is almost unbearable and I can feel my new obsession digging into me. Heat pumps through my veins at the memory of how stunning she was.
