Page 77 of The Way We Collide

She has all the directions and everything she needs for parking and getting to the box, and I talked to Rusty. Heather’s going to take care of them. The next time I’ll see them will be from the field.

I spend the rest of the afternoon hydrating, eating carbs, watching videos and reviewing plays with Tyler. We’ve been together long enough that we can read each other’s minds. I’ll keep my eyes on him and get clear, and we move the ball down the field like clockwork.

We meet with Coach, suit up, and it’s on. Following the Tigers chant, we jog from the locker room to the stadium entrance. All our PR folks line the path, and I give them a thumbs up to post on social media.

Music plays in the stadium, and some of the guys dance and shout to get hyped. Fans love that shit, and Tyler and I usually do a little hand jive routine.

“Ready to do this?” He grins, bumping my fist with his.

“Born ready,” I shout back, doing a point and a hip move.

We’re on the sidelines surrounded by the roar of the crowd, the voices on the Jumbotron, and “Start Me Up” by the Rolling Stones. They always play that one or “Welcome to the Jungle” by Guns N’ Roses.

“Hey, bro!” Rusty walks over to slap me on the back. “You weren’t back there crying over Taylor Swift again, were you?”

Shaking my head, I look at my cleats. “I’ll never live that down, will I?”

“Nope.”

Rusty’s about three inches taller and one hundred pounds heavier than me, with fiery red hair. He invited me to join him and a few other players in buying a VIP box for our families. I can afford my own, but I didn’t want Raven to be by herself during the game.

“Check it out.” He points across the field to the glassed-in case above the forty-yard line.

Looking up, I expect to see Raven and Haddy with a bunch of the other WAGs. What I don’t expect is to see them both decked out in royal blue jerseys with the number 85 in bright yellow on both their chests.

“What?” I shout, breaking into a laugh.

I point up at them, not sure if they can see me, but Raven lifts Haddy’s little arm and makes her wave. The announcers say something about Hendrix Bradford pointing to a new face in the player’s box.

The screen flashes, and I see a full shot of them on the jumbotron. They look really good in blue. Raven’s pretty hair is down around her shoulders, and Haddy has two tiny blue puff balls on the top of her head.

I can’t help another laugh at how cute she is. I really like seeing them up there watching me—a lot. Looking down, it’s getting harder to keep in mind this is all a business arrangement, a means to an end, temporary. My jaw clenches.

“We’re up.” Tyler jogs to me from the field. “Ready to show them how it’s done?”

“Let’s do it.”

O-line gathers around, Tyler takes a second to call the play, and we head onto the field. The Commanders line up in a split-T defense, and my eyes are downfield.

At the snap, I shoot up the center to where it’s clear, looking back as Tyler falls to the right. I dig in, getting away from a big lineman, and as soon as I’m open he sends a tight spiral into my waiting arms.

Digging in with my toes, I break to the left and head in the opposite direction, barely missing a cornerback, who goes down at my side. Another guy heads at me, but at the last second, he inexplicably goes down. My legs go up, and I sail over his back like a hurdler.

Two more steps, and it’s a first down.

The crowd goes wild, my teammates are around me, and we quickly slap hands before heading back to the line. It’s pretty much the same every time. Tyler calls it, and I execute. Play by play, we work the ball down the field until it’s fourth and goal.

“You’re going down, Bradford.” A big lineman snarls across from me. “I’ve eaten burritos bigger than you.”

Pressing my lips together, I snort a laugh. Garrett loves to chatter on the line, so I’m used to talking trash.

“Hope you like greens,” I holler back at him. “You’re about to eat turf.”

The ball snaps, and dammit, that guy shoots right across the line. I take a spin and fake to the right, looking back at Tyler. His eyes are on me, and he fires the ball hard.

It’s a good pass, but 53 is hot on my heels. Vince, our wide receiver is across from me, and I flick the ball to him just before I’m down with a loudOof!Looking up from the ground, I see the crowd go wild.

The big guy is off me, reaching down to pull me to my feet, and I see Vince run it in for the touchdown.

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