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As quick as the thoughts flashed through my head, I regained my stride. Instead of making a huge mistake because my boyfriend needed a refresher on the concept ofsecret, I nodded as if he’d called a play and took my position. With Parker’s words circling in my mind, I forced myself to watch the defense. Two guys on me, like they’d been playing all game, but the coverage on Mac’s side was lax. The defender kept glancing my way.
The easy move would be to let Holbrook, our running back, eke us out the couple of yards we needed for the first down then stop the clock. Parker was right not to take the easy choice though. With less than a minute left for us to make it down the field, inches wouldn’t win us the game.
We needed a big play. Parker would throw to Mac, which meant I had to draw the defenders my way. If I could split Mac’s coverage, he’d have more space to catch the damn ball. Better convince them I was the intended target.
Parker rubbed his hands together, like he always did before calling the signals, and the memory of those same hands holding my thighs open that morning sent a shot of adrenaline through my system.When we win tonight…
Our center snapped the ball, launching all of us into motion. I grunted as I pushed off. Explosive speed was my superpower, and I used every bit of what I had to push myself farther, faster.
Run.I wanted it to be the only word in my head, but Parker’s voice wouldn’t be silenced. A tingle started in between my shoulder blades, and I turned my head in time to see Parker let loose with a deep throw.
To me.
I’d shaken one of the defensive backs, but the other was only steps behind me—and the end zone was only steps in front of me.
Mac’s guy gunned for me in my peripheral, but he wouldn’t make it in time to stop the catch. I pivoted laterally, then spun around the last defender. Parker’s pass was high, but I jumped and caught the football with one hand, pulling it in against my chest.
As expected, both defenders hit me while I was still airborne. I curled around the ball as we crashed to the ground. They attempted to knock it loose, but I sacrificed trying to soften my landing in favor of maintaining my death grip.
We hit hard and slid on the grass. Pain exploded across my hip where I took the brunt of the fall, and I gritted my teeth against the smaller jabs from elbows and knees and helmets. A whistle blew, and a few seconds later, a horde of football players surrounded us.
Someone pulled the defenders off me, and Mac offered me his hand. I wanted to lay there until my whole body stopped throbbing, but I couldn’t afford even the slightest hesitation. With the world watching—or at least the people in our stadium—I wasn’t going to show any signs of weakness.
Mac pulled me up, and the stadium exploded with noise. I held the football up, then let it fall into the endzone at my feet. The team surrounded me, jostling to slap my back, my helmet, anything they could reach.
My heart pounded out a drumbeat as wild as the crowd as we vacated the field for the kicking team. Mac nearly bowled me over to shake my shoulder.
“Yes, RJ. Boss. Ass. Bitch. The world’s going to be talking about Riley Jones.” He didn’t wait for a response before taking off again down the sidelines.
I unstrapped my helmet and smiled at the praise from my teammates, but one voice was missing from the chorus. Parker stood deep in conversation with Coach near our end zone.
The rest of the game passed in a blur. We made the extra point, and the other team couldn’t rally. Final score 13-10, and another win in our column, maintaining our undefeated streak since the Belcourt game.
I watched Parker surreptitiously as we shook hands and headed to the locker rooms. As far as I could tell, he never looked my way. After his ambush, he’d gone back to playing with cold precision.
Anger mixed with confusion and pulsing need as I slammed through the double doors. I should have been celebrating a hard win, especially considering I’d earned the only touchdown we made after two field goals.
The strong floral scent of perfume surrounded me as I headed toward the showers, but my steps echoed dully in the empty room. No one else was in the small space with me, as usual. The cheerleaders came and went while we did the sportsmanship bit. They stored their personal stuff in the lockers for convenience, but since they didn’t need to change or anything, it only took them a few minutes to clear out.
I left my gear in a heap near the showers, peeling off my sweaty underlayers with relief. Once I stopped moving, they’d gotten clammy and cold. This locker room didn’t offer separate stalls, opting for a long, open row instead.
The guys’ showers reportedly had a few stalls with multi-jet heads, not that I’d ever use them. I had a locker assigned to me on their side, but I didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable or give the wrong idea. Naked, I let my forehead rest against the cold white tile. Why was it always my responsibility to control the way people saw me?
I’d thought Parker understood why I needed to separate the boyfriend from the quarterback. When steam bathed my face, I stepped under the spray, hissing as the water hit the dark purple bruise blooming across my hip. Stiffness had already begun tightening up that leg, but I knew how to take care of the injury.
I’d had worse.
Normally, I’d consider the pain worth it for the win, but was it? Bruises were a part of the playing cost, and I usually wore my injuries with pride. The potential to lose everything from a stupid slip-up was considerably less appealing.When we win this game…
Parker’s taunt had been distracting as all hell, but it made me stop trying to fight the part of me clamoring to think about him. Turned out all my parts could work together just fine. I’d read the defense and found the speed I needed to create a hole.
He’d done it on purpose. It was the only explanation that made sense. Parker had risked someone overhearing to try to goad me into getting around the defense.
And it had worked.
That part pissed me off almost as much as the risk he’d taken. His stupid penis shouldn’t be a factor in my gameplay. I soaped up, ignoring the urge to run my hand between my legs.
Parker would love to know how strongly he’d affected me, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. A quiet, deep part of me questioned why getting myself off in a dark locker room—alone—hadanythingto do with Parker.
