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“Flynn said he’d be here, and he hasn’t shown up.”
Simon snorted. “He probably got smart.”
“Shut up, Simon.” Julius scowled. “At least I didn’t get my ass kicked before the game.”
The people in the stands went nuts as we took the field, heading to our side. I scanned the crowd with Julius. He looked for Flynn and I looked for my mysterious blond.
Coach called out a play and sent us on out, forcing us to get our heads back into the game. We trailed by 4 points at the half, so if we worked together and hustled, we would win homecoming.
We huddled up, and I looked around at my teammate’s faces. “C’mon guys, we can do this.”
Nods and agreements went around.
“Okay, let’s show these Panthers they’re messing with the wrong guys. Let’s run our strongest play. Far double-wing right, hum short, 76, halfback shallow cross, on two. Ready? Break.” We clapped our hands and went to our formation.
The scent of apples distracted me several times through the game and, like Julius, I scanned the crowd when I had a second, coming up empty every time.
This half felt like it drug on forever. Restlessness filled those from our pack and caused tension on the sideline. On the field, the Panthers struggled to run the ball, which helped us.
We closed the gap over the third quarter. By the last quarter, I wasn’t the only one knackered. My teammates were whipped. We worked harder than normal for every point we got. Even with the Panthers struggling.
Coach called a timeout, and I jogged over to him. The closer I got to the sideline and Simon standing beside coach the stronger the scent of apples grew.
Glancing up at the scoreboard, I saw the clock stopped leaving three seconds in the game. It’s time to run a play to get that final touchdown we needed to give us the game. We only trailed the Panthers by four points.
Simon glared at me, and when I inhaled, the scent of apples became overwhelming.
Our mate. He’s touched him.
My wolf raged and tried to get out, and I reached out, grabbing Simon’s throat. “Who were you with before the game, cocksucker?”
“Knock it off, Aarons!” Coach reached for my arm.
“Who?” I demanded as something crashed against my helmet. I turned my attention to coach and his face grew redder.
“Sit down!” He pointed at the bench.
Simon smiled and croaked out. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I said sit. Down.” Coach grabbed my arm.
Snarling, I gave Simon a shove back. “This is far from over, asshole.”
“Fuck off, Aarons.” He sneered. “I can go in for him, coach.”
“Damn right you can.” Coach threw a glare my way and then told his play to Simon.
I tuned out, seething on the bench.
Fuck this game. Fuck Simon Scott. And fuck the Grimclaw pack.
I peeled my helmet off and slammed it to the ground when I heard my name called from behind me. Looking over my shoulder, I saw my dads.
“Sebastian?” Pop narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on?”
I spun around on the bench, then walked over to the chain-link fence where they stood. “Apples.”
Both dads looked confused. “Simon’s an alpha. Like his dad.”
