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Nixon pulls me back. “He’s not worth it.”
“Oh, I’m not so sure.”
“He isn’t worth it,” Nixon hisses once again. “Crush him on the field.”
I still hold onto Collins, his heavy breaths ringing in my ears.
“Wentworth,” Nixon growls, his grip tightening until I let go of Collins.
“Fucking asshole.”
I go to our side of the line, inhaling deeply to reign in the rage boiling inside of me.
There are just a few more minutes on the clock. Get a grip.
I line up with the rest of my teammates, tuning out everything except for the sound of Nixon’s voice. The moment he calls out the play, I’m running. Collins tries to stop me, but this time I’m faster, I’m angrier, so I do what Nixon told me: I channel it all into this play.
Then you better bring it home, so I can come and watch,Jade’s earlier words push me to run faster.
One damn win.
We only need one damn win.
I turn around just in time to catch the ball. The defensive player is there waiting. I duck under him, slipping out of his grasp by mere inches, only to notice another player right at my feet. Completely screwed, I look around for an opening, and that’s why I don’t see the sack coming.
Not until I’m already falling, my leg twisting underneath me. The fall kicks all the air out of my lungs as my body connects to the ground.
And then pain.
Hot, searing pain as a two-hundred-fifty-pound body falls over mine.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
JADE
Nixon:
Almost there.
I slide the phone back into my pocket, rocking on the balls of my feet as I look up, just in time, to notice the bus pulling into the parking lot.
Biting into my lower lip I wait for the bus to come to a stop, my gaze zeroing in on the door and all the people coming out until I see him. Then, I run.
Prescott notices me almost instantly. I all but throw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “You’re back.”
Strong arms curl around my middle as he pulls me closer. “I’m back.”
He’s here. He’s fine.
“The better question is, what are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?” I pull back so I can glare at him. “Where the hell should I be?”
“Back in your apartment, in bed.” He gives me a pointed look. “Somewhere where you’re not freezing and risking catching pneumonia.”
“That’s what I told her, but she wouldn’t listen,” Nixon mutters.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
