Page 35 of The Tiger in the Sack

No.

I absolutely recognized the way that voice said my name. It was protective, and charming, and meant to be helpful.

Helpful getting me down out of a tree.

There were no snags in my brain this time.

Isak Kingman was Cat Daddy.

THE JULES-ISH INQUISITION

ISAK

“Clover...”

She whipped her head around and looked at me like this was the first time she’d noticed I was Isak Kingman. Fuck. I hated that look.

“Uh, thanks for your help. You guys can take off. Don’t want Roper to think I wasted any of your time.”

Before I could say anything else, she turned and walked toward the cheerleaders. We’d just been summarily dismissed.

Fox said it on the jog back across the field, casual, like he was commenting on the weather. “That was weird.”

I kept jogging.

“The way she just… wrapped up and moved on. Very efficient.” He paused for a beat, clearly waiting for me to say something, anything. “Very specifically not looking at you when she did it.”

The last thing I needed was him figuring out she was my Cheerleader in a Tree. “I have no idea what you are talking about. I am very handsome. My Nana said so.”

He made a patented I’m-on-to-you Fox face. “Sure.”

We jogged in silence for about thirty seconds until we got back to our drills.

Martinez broke right on a post route and I threw it exactly where he’d been two seconds ago.

The ball hit the turf.

Fox jogged back past me. Didn’t say anything. His face said enough.

We reset. Roper called the play. I took the snap, felt the pocket hold, had Martinez open again on the same route and put it three feet behind him.

“Kingman.” Roper’s voice from the sideline. Not loud. Worse than loud.

I jogged over.

He looked at me for a long moment. The kind of look that had nothing to do with football and both of us knew it.

“Where are you today?”

“Here, Coach.”

He let that sit there between us for a second, which was its own answer.

“Be better,” he said, “or no cookies for you.” And then walked away.

I went back to the huddle. Fox was doing his thing where he wasn’t looking at me but was absolutely watching me. Martinez was being very professional about the fact that I’d just thrown the ball to where he wasn’t, twice, in front of everyone.

We ran the play again. This time I threw it perfectly.