Page 59 of Chasing After You
I know that’s the plan, but it doesn’t make it easier to breathe right now.
“I’ve got this,” I say confidently, even if I feel my insides starting to shrivel under the pressure.
Owen looks at me, his face unreadable. “Good, then maybe you can stop chewing your mouthguard like a fucking rodent. It won’t keep your teeth pretty for my niece if you mangle it. You won’t be such a pretty accessory for her if you look like Toothless.”
“I’d hate for her to be associated with someone that looks like a cartoon dragon,” I agree, snapping my mouth shut. I look back at the field, just in time for the play to be stopped by the Lions calling a timeout. I cross my arms over my chest, trying not to let my irritation get the better of me.
“You’re a good player, Price. Maybe you’ll be great one day, but don’t fuck it up by letting their mind games get to you,” Owen warns, clapping me on the shoulder. He steps away to talk with our defensive coordinator, and I let the words sink in.
I want to be great. I want this more than anything.
I grab the collar of my jersey, looking out around me. The stadium is packed, and I can feel the roar of the crowd in my bones.
Let them play their games. It’s not going to change the outcome, wearegoing home with a win.
The play clock resumes, and the sound of the stadium somehow grows louder when the Lions’ quarterback drops back, scanning for an open receiver, just as our left defensive tackle breaks through the offensive line. The quarterback sees him, darting out of the way at the last moment to avoid being sacked, causing his pass to end up out of bounds.
Hell yeah.
My excitement is short-lived when on the next play, their quarterback finds his mark in the end zone—a wide receiver left open as our cornerback is a second too slow. Owen swears, turning to find me as they score the extra point on the kick, followed by the kickoff, before nodding at me.
Adrenaline is pumping through my veins, but my head has never felt clearer. Everything else falls silent as I jog out onto the field, taking my place as everyone else falls into formation around me.
I focus on breathing as I hear Owen’s voice through the microphone in my helmet. The clock is running out, and I need to get us close enough for our kicker to have a shot at making a field goal.
“Set, hut,” I call, the ball landing in my hands. I find Tyler as he darts to my side, handing off the ball as he tries to find a gap in their line. He dodges, making it far enough to get a first down before he’s hit by a defender, and there are immediate flags thrown. Yelling erupts from all around as Tyler rolls onto his back, the ball still clutched in his hands.
I don’t hear what Crosby says to the guy who hit Tyler, but Wilson yanks him back as I reach Tyler, who is slow to get up.
“Are you good?” I ask, offering him a hand as whistles are blown.
“Knocked the wind out of me, but I didn’t drop the ball.” He grimaces as the flags are explained over the stadium’s speakers.
“Targeting number fifty-five. Fifteen-yard penalty.”
Are you fucking kidding me? I’m ready to shut them up once and for all.
“Took it like a champ,” I say, tipping my head as I turn back to my guys. “I don’t care what they say, or what they do. We keep our shit together and let the score at the end do the talking,” I say, making sure every single one of them hears me.
Crosby’s mouth is set in a hard line, and if we had more time, I’d probably try to say something else.
We’re fifteen yards closer than we were before, and I’m going to use every bit of it to my advantage.
Two more first downs later and thirty seconds on the clock, our kicker sends a perfectly placed kick through the middle of the goalposts.
I breathe a sigh of relief as the sidelines around me erupt into chaos, and I barely had enough time to shower and get dressed before the media was let into the locker room.
I did a good job of not letting myself think about Mirabelle during the game, but I’m having a hard time keeping my eyes off her as she hovers in the back with Stacey, taking notes of our answers. She looks beautiful, but she’d look even better wearing my jersey.
Actually, she’d look better wearing nothing, but I shouldn’t be thinking that, especially right now while she’s working.
I’m not able to fully relax until I’m on the plane. As I pull my headphones out of my bag, I see Mirabelle appear. I stand up, causing everyone’s eyes to turn to me.
“Price, what are you doing?” Wilson asks and I grab my bag from below the seat in front of me.
“I’m going to sit with my girlfriend,” I say, stepping into the aisle, closing the gap between us. Mirabelle is staring at me in surprise, and she looks at Stacey who is already seated.
Stacey shoos her away. “Go sit with him before I change my mind,” she says, rolling her eyes in annoyance as she taps quickly on her phone.
