His words came out in a deep-baritone winded whisper. “I love you, Vee. No one will hurt you. I won’t let them.” He arched his back, staring into my eyes with the sincerity of a promise made.
I lifted my palm to his cheek. “No one will hurt me, Fin.”
The sapphire blue of his eyes swirled with emotions. “We missed too much of each other’s life.”
“We did, but maybe it was for the best.” I strained my neck and brushed my lips over his. “What matters is we’re together now.”
His stare was filled with raw intensity. “There’s a lot I don’t know about you.”
“We have forever to learn everything about one another.”
“I’d fucking kill for you.”
A strange memory made me smirk. “That might affect your scholarship.”
Fin’s cheeks rose with a grin. “I signed a contract with the Coopers. When I did, I didn’t realize I signed over my heart, but I did. You own it, Vee. I want a life with you—a long one.”
I nodded. “I love you, too.”
Chapter 10
Fin
* * *
Smiles and salutations greeted one another as the team came back together on Friday. The last time we’d assembled was at Reid Hubbard’s funeral. The happy faces weren’t a sign that the Coopers had forgotten the CEO and owner and had moved on. They meant we were genuinely pleased to be back at Maker’s Mark with a common adversary on the horizon. The preparation for a game and an opposing team was both physical and mental.
The win against the Raiders was in the past.
Our 6–0 record was the past.
Our focus was on the next game against the Tennessee Titans.
It would be our second meeting of the season. Unlike the first time, a week from Sunday we’d play in Nashville on their turf. Our first game against the Titans still lived loudly in our heads. It wasn’t a secret that it was the Titans’ linebacker Pickard who took Dennison out of the game with the calls: roughing the passer and unnecessary roughness. That stunt put Dennison on the injury reserve for four weeks. While Pickard was ejected and penalized with three-game ineligibility, to hear our teammates talk, that hadn’t been enough.
Pickard would have a target on his jersey.
“And there’s no way in hell he’s getting near Dennison,” James, our offensive tackle, said. The rest of the O-line cheered. James was now our starting offensive tackle since Corden Young tore his meniscus in the game against the Raiders.
That’s the way the game of football worked. One day you were a star. The next you were sitting the bench, or worse, laid up with possible career-changing injuries.
Jordon James wasn’t the only new name added to the starting roster. Marcel Pickett, the kid who told me about my tells, was listed as starting defensive end, taking the place of Xavien Martin who suffered an MCL sprain. Martin wouldn’t be out for the season, but it was good to see Pickett recognized for his hard work. Eric Rhodes, another defensive end, was listed as “limited.” Whether he saw playing time against the Titans on Sunday would be a call made by the athletic trainers and medical staff. The same could be said about Ramel Patel, wide receiver, and about me. We were both listed as ‘questionable.’
Coach Tilson stood in the front of the film room as the cheers died. “We want a clean game. The officiating crew will know the history between the two teams. They’ll be watching for possible penalties. It won’t help the Coopers if any of you are ejected or penalized.”
“We’re talking clean,” our starting center, Spencer, said. “We won’t let them play dirty.”
Tilson smiled. “I like your determination.”
“It won’t matter, Coach,” Dennison said. “I’m not going down.”
Troy was seated to my side. I bumped his shoulder with mine. “You’ve got this.”
“As you should know, the Titans,” Coach Tilson said, “are 5 and 2. They’ll be gunning for us just like we’re gunning for them. We’re in the same division. Only one team from each division gets first seed in postseason. And the team for the AFC South is going to be who?”
“Coopers,” the entire team answered.
“Who?”
