Page 11 of Keep Me Never
And I’m a damn good swimmer.
The smoke blows through the tunnel, the massive shark’smouth open wide, teeth looking sharp and sinister, or so the giant blowup makes it appear.
The roar of the crowds is loud, our fellow AU peers never letting us down when it comes to showing up on game day. The music blares, the announcers shouting over it, calling us to the field.
I bounce in place, swinging my arms and hopping from foot to foot.
For dramatic effect, Mason holds us back. He nods a few times, then starts to run out, the rest of us right there on his heels.
We jog out to the center of the field, running through some stretches and basic drills as a team before separating into our respective position groups with our position-based coaches.
Dolton the dickhead comes out, grilling us through our routes, the backup quarterbacks in and taking reps. The dude who took Alister Howl’s spot this year is pretty good. Alister, the old second-string and pain in all our asses for our own reasons, transferred out for the year. I don’t mind when I end up in the new guy’s line for warm-ups; if I had it my way, I’d stay paired with Mase, but it’s always good to work with different quarterbacks.
Warm-ups are over before I know it, the game-day rituals done, and the time gets set up on the clock.
The kickoff team takes the field, so I move over to the bench, where Mason is looking over something on a tablet, and accept a water bottle from one of the trainers.
“What’s up?” I ask him, my eyes scanning the crowd.
“They benched Davies last minute,” he says of Idaho’s starting defensive end, the position Brady has been playing for a couple seasons now. “I’m watching what we’ve got on his replacement, but it ain’t much.” He frowns at the screen.
“Our line is solid. He won’t get through,” I remind him, but I know he’s going to stress regardless. A past injury that took you out for a part of the season will do that to you.
“You didn’t come say hi to the girls before the game.” Bradyslides over, eyes on me when he adds, “Poor Paige had a tear in her eye.”
Mason smirks my way, and I force a frown, finally allowing my eyes to travel toward where I know the girls will be—sixty-yard line, four or five rows up. I find the little blond immediately, her light hair down, a yellow lace headband disappearing into the length. She’s smiling at Mason’s little boy, sitting on his mama’s lap. “Sure she did.”
“She did, I saw. It ran right down her cheek, messed up that dude’s number she had painted on there all pretty like.”
My head yanks his way, only to fly right back to the girl in question, but I catch myself quick in the knee-jerk reaction, and once again, I’m looking at my other best friend.
Brady raises a blond brow, but Mason just flat out grins.
I scoff, shaking my head. “Fuck off. Both of you.”
“Just admit you like her.” Brady tugs his helmet on, buckling his chin strap.
“Oh look, kickoff is over.” I swing my gaze to Brady. “D up.”
The man laughs, taking the field.
Mason stands up, and we wait on the sidelines for our defense to dominate, and with less than a minute gone from the clock, me and Mase and the rest of the AU starting offense jog out.
My heartbeat seems to slow, my breath leaving my lungs in slow motion. I get into position, toe on the line at the forty, my hands loose at my sides, and watch as the center drops his hand to the ball. Mason checks everyone’s placement, and then he calls the hike. The ball is snapped, and the second the leather leaves the turf, it’s like a shot of Xanax straight into my veins. A calm like no other washes over me, my muscles ease, and a long, slow breath pushes past my lips.
And then I’m flying down the field at full speed.
Let’s. Fucking.Go.
“Chaser with the motherfucking ninety-yard catch, baby!” I hear Cameron scream the second we walk out of the facility, my eyes moving right to where I know Brady’s truck is parked. She beams at me, her hand still cupped around her mouth like a megaphone.
I smirk, nodding my chin in her direction just as Brady wraps me in a headlock.
“How dare you outplay me in front of my girl, Harper.” He laughs, giving me a proper noogie like an asshole.
Grinning, I manage to shove him off and he just winks, slipping through the crowd and not stopping until he’s hopping up on the tailgate, taking Cameron into his massive-ass arms.
It’s still so strange that two of my closest friends since junior high are together now, but I couldn’t be happier for the pair.
