We won!
Fuck you, Coach Masters.
“Not sure what you’re talking about,” I say to Craig, refusing to make eye contact with him. I don’t want to lie, but I also don’t want him to know the truth. “This just happened in that last tackle. Did you see the guy? He was a tank.”
He stops wrapping my wrist and slowly brings his gaze to mine.
I smirk.
He raises a brow in disbelief.
“Mhm, and is that what you’re going to say when they interview you in a second?” He nods toward the camera crew making their way over to me. Sienna, the reporter is right at the front, and I blow out a breath. I can’t even hide from her, she’s a damn pit bull.
At least it’s a win today.
“Yup,” I pop out, pulling my hand away and admiring his handiwork. He’s strapped it so well, I almost forgot how painful it is.
“Woah, easy there.” Craig jumps back as Dax barrels over and practically throws himself onto the turf beside me.
“Dax?” I stare at him. “Are you dying?”
“Potentially,” he pants out dramatically with his hands on his knees. “I haven’t run that fast since preseason conditioning.”
“Why? Did you want to meet Sienna since your chances with Whit are out the window?”
He grins shamelessly. “No. It’s because I wanted a front-row seat.”
“To what? Your cardiovascular collapse?”
“Nah.” His smile widens as he looks over his shoulder. “To this.”
I frown and turn slightly, confused by whatever weird, cryptic nonsense he’s talking about.
The camera crew is nearby. Players are still celebrating around the end zone. Reporters are swarming the field.
What is Dax talking—
Everything inside me stops.
“Honey?”
She's running toward me, wearing my Raptors jersey as a dress with a big red bow in her hair.
I blink once.
Then again.
She’s still there.
Slowly, I turn to Dax. “Am I concussed?”
His grin is wide. “Oh, no. It’s real, brother.” He slaps my shoulder, jolting me into action. “Go get her.”
I'm moving before I've consciously told myself to move, pushing off my hurt wrist without thinking. Pain be damned.
My Honeycomb is here.
“THAT’S MY QUARTERBACK!” Dax whacks my ass as I start running, his laugh echoing over the noise. I don't care. I'm not focused on him anymore.
