Page 89 of Hard Count
“Do you think it will work?”
I take his hands in mine and intertwine our fingers. “It worked on me. You called the plays and made me move. I may not have been ready but you had me falling in love with you anyway.”
“You were halfway in love with me when we met.” He tightens his grip on my hands.
“I’m not sure I knew what love really was until you showed me. You’ve loved me without any conditions.”
I’m not convinced my mom ever truly loved me. She loved using me for her own gain. My dad tried but it wasn’t until recently that I felt his love. In the past, it was hard to tell if he actually cared or if he was playing a game with my mom.
Nash didn’t hesitate to show me affection. His instincts were always right when they came to me. When I would pull away, he pushed us forward. “You always know what to do with me and I’m a lot harder to read than a defensive line.”
Nash places my hands on his sides. He cups the back of my neck and my ass, tugging my body against his. “That’s what you think. You tell me everything I need to know without having to say anything. The way you look at me, the way you touch me, the way you make me feel, it’s all right there.” He leans down and presses his mouth against mine, confirming everything I feel for this man in my heart.
“That’s because you have good intuition," I say, breaking our kiss. "You know how to read your opponents. You took the time to understand me and you ended up winning my heart and healing it,” I say, showing him my tattoo.
“What’s this?” He runs his thumb back and forth over my stitched up heart making me shiver.
“It’s not your full name but it has the same meaning.” I take his finger to trace over the letter‘N’that now holds to the two halves of my heart together. I had the tattoo artistmake it look like thread stitching it up. It's what Nash does for me everyday. “You made me feel whole again. I love you. I believe in you and I know you can win this game.”
“I love you, too, baby.” He kisses my wrist and hugs me again. “Let’s tell everyone the plan,” he says. He grabs his gear and then opens the door, pulling me with him back to the locker room with the confidence I’ve become accustomed to seeing in him.
As we walk in, my dad is addressing the team with his game plan for the second half. Nash steps in front of him and they have a private discussion. Nash points to me and my dad’s eyes connect with mine. The corner of his mouth ticks up in a grin. He gives Nash a nod and they both turn toward the rest of the team.
“We’re going to change things up for the second half of the game,” Nash says. The guys shuffle around and move closer. “If we listen to everything Coach Prescott has to say, we can win this thing. So pay attention.”
Nash moves to the side and my dad steps forward. He doesn’t stop walking until he’s standing in front of me. My stomach twists into knots with the way he's is looking at me. His eyes are soft around the corners and his smile reminds me of the one in the picture I keep on my dresser at home. “Tell us what we’re doing, Coach,” he says, handing me his clipboard. “You got us here. You can bring us home as champions.”
My eyes are blurry as I scan the room. I don’t stop until they land on a set of light brown ones filled with pride. Nashhands me a bottle of water and I take a few sips. “You got this, little fox. I believe in you too.”
It’s intimidating having the entire team waiting to hear what I have to say when such an important game is on the line. I inhale and exhale a few times before finally pulling my thoughts together.
“Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do,” I begin, and explain how the plays will need to be called for the second half. “Their defense hasn’t stopped moving the entire game. I say we do the same and give them a taste of their own medicine.” I smirk at the guys.
“Get in front of him. What are you doing? Stay on your man,” my dad yells. At whom I don’t know.
“You’re going to get us a penalty.” I grab his arm and pull him off the field. We’re currently down by eleven with about eight minutes left on the clock. We scored two touchdowns in the third quarter and our defense only allowed Texas to get seven more points.
“That receiver is getting ahead of Trey every time. They’re going to throw it into the end zone if we aren’t careful.” He crosses his arms over his chest as he paces back and forth.
“I don’t think they will,” I say.
My dad stops short and stares at me. “How do you know?”
“Treyand Chris are dancing around on the field. They’re doing a good job confusing him. Their QB is too calculated. He won’t risk the unknown. He’ll stick to the shorter pass routes and rely on their run game. Eli needs to watch the center, and as soon as the ball is snapped he should charge the quarterback to force a fumble.”
“That was so hot,” Nash leans down, whispering in my ear while my dad talks to Eli through the radio in his helmet.
“Stay focused, Pierce. One more play and you’re up.”
“Yes, Coach,” he says, with a smirk. I bite down on my lip. Mmm…I kind of like the sound of that.
Eli doesn’t force a turnover but they do stop them on downs. “Go get ‘em,” I smack Nash’s butt before he gets too far away. He tosses a smile at me through his helmet.
“How are you holding up?” I ask Eli as Asher hands him a water bottle.
“Good.” His eyes stay pinned to a spot over my shoulder. I don’t have to turn around to know he’s looking at Frankie. Sydney took my spot and is sitting with her for the rest of the game since I’m down here.
I focus my attention back on the game. Nash has been doing a good job keeping their defense second guessing what we’re doing on our side of the line. He calls a few running plays back to back and we get a first down. It’s good but we’re wasting a lot of time on the clock.
