Page 28 of Through the Flames
Nine
Hunter
There was a storm raging in my head, wrecking every coherent thought, tearing and shredding through every resemblance of normalcy I had left.
I thought getting her into my personal space, even if only briefly, and being able to touch her would curb some of my desire.
I’d been wrong. So fucking wrong.
This never happened. I operated on logic, on facts. I could count the times I’d been wrong on my own two fucking hands.
But here we were, and I was craving her even worse now. Some kind of fucked-up floodgates had opened, and now instead of not wanting to be touched at all, I wanted her to touch me.
Constantly.
The locker room around me was buzzing with the kind of controlled chaos and raw focus only present right before a game.
Music was blasting from someone’s speaker, our team’s designated hype playlist, accompanied by Velcro tearing, tape unrolling and sharp curses, grunts, and laughter.
The smell of clean laundry collided with old gear funk, Gatorade powder, and the sting of menthol.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Knox sit down to tie his shoes, the way he always did on game days. He was absolutely convinced it made a difference.
I refrained from letting him in on the fact that it only made a difference because he was shit at tying his shoes the normal way, and this was the only way he was able to do it correctly.
Everybody had different strengths, I guess.
Bowing my head again, I realized my leg was bouncing. Huh.
A habit I only recently adopted whenever my thoughts locked on Ella.
Especially the way she looked that night, how her tight body had pressed against mine, scorching and soothing all at once.
I’d almost lost control, and I wasn’t sure how long I’d be able to restrain myself.
The muffled roar of the crowd outside was growing, and when it was time to finally head outside, we gathered in a circle, knocking our helmets as Craig, our captain, held his obligatory speech.
Jax struck up our chant. “THIS OUR HOUSE!”
“OUR NAME! OUR GAME!” The team responded with a deafening roar as we began our run down the tunnel.
As soon as my feet hit the turf, I was scanning the stands. It was nearly impossible to spot anyone in the roaring mass, but Ella wasn’t just anyone after all.
I knew roughly in which section she’d be, and thankfully her hair was vivid enough to make her stand out.
My jaw ticked as I registered all the men around her, way too close for comfort. The thought of one of them chatting her up, hitting on her, here of all places, made me see red.
She should only be watching me. Chewing on my mouth guard like a maniac, I swiftly marched to the bench, silent fury fueling my every muscle.
Guess I just had to make the game interesting enough to keep her attention on me.
The defense was called up, and I slid into my spot at cornerback, lined up across from their top receiver. I was locked in, shadowing him like he was the only man on this fucking field.
She was in my head, and I played like I had something to prove.
Whenever my eyes snapped back to Ella in the stands, her eyes were locked on the field. My heart was thrumming with satisfaction and pride.
My breath was rasping against the inside of my face mask as the crack of pads colliding rang out, dulled under the sharp pulse of adrenaline racing through my body.
