Page 56 of Loving a Warrior

The minute the quarterback’s hands touched the ball, Shane lowered his shoulder and drove it hard into Matt’s chest, sending him sprawling.

“You dick,” he muttered before sprinting away.

On the next play the same thing happened, only Matt was ready. When Shane flattened him, Matt gasped out, “I’m sorry about the other night. I’ve felt like shit all week.”

The look of dislike Shane flicked him should’ve buried him underneath the dirt, but all it did was send heat surging through Matt’s veins.

Oh, I’m gonna make you talk to me, motherfucker.

He leapt to his feet just in time to see Shane jump into the air to receive the pass before taking off for the end zone. Matt went after him and launched himself at the backs of Shane’s knees, ramming into him with the force of a pile driver. With a pained grunt, Shane hit the ground hard, the football tucked under his arm jarring loose. It bounced away on impact and triggered a free-for-all.

Matt rolled to the side to avoid being trampled, instinctively curling into a fetal position with his arms over his head. A few feet away Shane pushed to standing, his bare chest and stomach streaked with dirt and sweat, blood now dripping from his chin. He probed at his newly split lip with his tongue, his face tight with fury.

“Lemme explain.” Matt got to his feet, grunting as Shane bumped him hard with his chest, sending Matt staggering back a step.

Shane loomed over him. “Fuck. You.”

They stared into each other’s eyes, the blue of Shane’s almost black with anger and, yes, tinged with hurt. Matt winced. Leaving him the other night without a word had been a real dick move, and renewed shame slithered through him. Shane had selflessly helped him through his disappointment over the dive practical and how had Matt repaid him? By abandoning him.

All week Shane hadn’t returned his texts or calls. Matt didn’t blame him.

“Shane—”

“Save it.” Shane turned his back and jogged toward the line of scrimmage. For the next several plays, Matt let Shane hammer him.

“I’m sorry,” he said each time.

“Fuck you” was the response.

“Is that all you can say to me?” Matt demanded at one point, yelping when instead of answering Shane stepped deliberately on his chest as he headed back into the fray. Furious, Matt got to his feet just as Shane went up for an interception, his body extended beautifully for the catch. He barreled toward the end zone, ball tucked in close to his side. Matt charged after him, but Shane was like the wind, easily making the touchdown before holding the ball over his head and going into some idiotic dance.

Unable to check his forward momentum, Matt was about to crash into him when Shane twisted to the side and stuck his foot out. Matt tripped over it at full speed and went flying. As he lay there, wind knocked out of him, struggling for air, he became dimly aware of Shane hovering over him wearing a smirk.

“Whoops. Guess I spilled the Soup. Again.”

It was better than fuck you but not by much. Matt snarled at him. “I said I’m sorry, asshole. Whaddya want from me?”

Shane turned his back and walked away as Matt’s laughing teammates rushed toward him and pulled him to his feet, putting his arms over their shoulders and helping him over to the picnic tables. Wives and girlfriends were starting to show up, food and kids in tow, the whole thing turning into some impromptu barbecue.

Smiling politely through the introductions, Matt edged away as soon as he could. Shane apparently wasn’t gonna talk to him, so screw this. He wasn’t much into the family thing anyway, and the beer was starting to flow.

He wiped his sweaty face on his T-shirt, made sure his ID was in his shorts pocket, and trotted toward the main gate of the base, intending to lose himself on a long, punishing run. As he headed down the path in the gathering darkness, he became aware of footsteps a short distance behind him.

Oh, shit.

Matt’s nipples tightened and every hair on his body stood on end. He quickened his pace, adrenaline starting to pump. One mile, then two, then three. The footsteps stayed behind him, even when Matt veered off the path and darted across the road toward the beach.

His calves burned as the soft sand slowed him down. The crunching footsteps were right on his heels, and Matt whirled to confront his follower, a pained “oof” exploding from him as a sweaty brick wall rammed into him, sending him flying.

That wall came down on top of him and pinned his wrists next to his head.

“I fucking waited in bed for you for fucking half an hour before I realized you were gone,” Shane snarled. “You didn’t even have the decency to come in and say goodbye, so yeah, fuck you, you prick.”

“I am a prick,” Matt agreed, letting himself go limp in Shane’s hold. “Hit me. I deserve it.”

They stared at each other until Shane released him with a huff of disgust. “Nah. Not worth it.”

He sat back, and Matt exploded into action, bucking Shane off him. With a shout, Shane recovered in an instant and pounced. They rolled over and over in the sand, grappling, fists flying. Seeing an opening, Matt scissored his legs around Shane’s waist and flipped him to his back before coming down flush over top of him.