I straighten my shoulders and shove everyone off me then stomp across the field.
After I shower, I plop myself down in Coach’s office and wait for him to show up. My left hand rubs at the part of my fist that hit Archer’s face.
Coach walks in and takes a seat on the edge of his desk. His eyes are hard as nails as he rakes them over me. “That was the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen you do.”
I straighten my posture and lean forward in the chair. “Sir—”
He holds his hand up. “No excuses. I know it was a late hit. I know you guys have your differences, but that’s what makes being number one so goddamn elusive. You have to want it enough to let that shit go. Do you want it? Do you want to be the first pick in the draft? Do you want to have the world at your fingertips when you leave this shithole of a town?”
I swallow. “Yes sir.”
He gives me a short nod. “Then show some leadership and coolness out there. You looked like a high school kid who’s pissed off that someone’s dating his girl. Get over this…rift you have with Archer.”
But…
Archer doesn’t respect me. He’s the one who should be sitting in here. Not me.
“Life isn’t fair, Voss,” he says, as if he’s reading my mind.
My fists curl. “I didn’t start the shit—”
“No excuses.”
“Or what?” I say.
His eyes harden. “Don’t make me have to decide.”
Oh, I know what he’s insinuating. That he’ll replace me with the backup, Dillon.
Screw that. I respect the hell out of him, but I won’t be forced into a corner to behave when I’m not the one who needs an attitude adjustment.
“I hope it doesn’t come to that, sir.” I stand up and stalk out the door even though he hasn’t dismissed me.
Penelope
“Sine, cosine, and tangent are the main functions used in trig,” I explain to the small study group I meet with each week in the library, pretty much my favorite place on earth. In fact, I make sure my study section always meets on the floor right smack next to the romance section. Sometimes I even think if the whole writing gig doesn’t work out, I can always be a librarian and live around books forever.
My phone buzzes for the third time, and I set down my notebook. “Guys, my phone keeps going off. It must be important.” I smile at them. “Let’s take five then meet back here.”
They nod and stand up to stretch as I grab my purse to retrieve my phone. I read the text.
Want me to rescue you?
I grin. Ryker. I didn’t see him last night, and he missed class this morning, but he hasn’t been far from my thoughts.
Being apart from him has given me a chance to catch my breath. Our night together, the memories of it, still swirl in my head. I can’t wait to see him.
From what? I say.
You look bored as hell. I can make that look go away.
I look around the library, but all I see are tall stacks of books and a few study tables. He isn’t at any of them. Where are you?
Next to some books.
I shake my head and smile. There are books everywhere.
Just know that I’m watching you. ☺
Are you a stalker?
Maybe. You look pretty by the way.
I blush.
Nice shirt, he sends.
I look down at his practice jersey. I wore it on purpose.
I’ll give it back to you.
Keep it. It looks better on you. I have a surprise for you.
A couple of the students are tapping their pencils against the table, and I send a quick look at them. One of them gives me a questioning look. “You ready?”
Time to get to work. I have to go, I text then tuck my phone away.
Half an hour later, most of the students have left, and I’m packing up my things.
I push the chairs up to the table and lean over to wipe it off.
“Hey,” comes Ryker’s voice from behind me.
I flip around, and there he stands, his broad shoulders leaning against a tall bookcase, half of his face in shadow.
It doesn’t lessen the impact of him.
I wonder if he’s been waiting for me this entire time.
“Hey,” I reply softly. I’ve replayed our conversation from when he dropped me off at my car a hundred different ways, trying to decipher where we stand.
“I missed you in class,” I say. “We covered differential equations.”
“Nice. Did you take notes for me?”
“Not a jersey chaser or your secretary.”
He laughs. “The claws are out. I didn’t expect you to. We can plan a study session at your place if I get behind.”
I toy with the straps of my backpack. “Yes, we could.” I’m already picturing him in my bedroom, spreading me out naked on my bed while I recite math facts.
“No more work tonight?”
“All done.” I walk over to him, and he steps forward out of the dimness of the shadow. “Ryker! What happened to your face?” I scan his features, taking in the purple bruise around his right eye. Moving closer, I wince at the puffiness and the worn look on his face. “A fight?”
He sighs, looking away from me. “You could say that. Archer and I…” He shakes his head. “There’s some bad blood between us.”
I inhale sharply. Ah.
He rakes a hand through his hair. “It’s nothing you have to worry about.”
I frown. “Was it on the field?”
“Yes.” His lips tighten and he rubs his jaw. “Blaze told me about him showing up when your tire was flat. But that wasn’t the main reason we got into it. There’s…a history there.” He gets a weird expression on his face, one I can’t read. “There’s something I need to tell you. Something that happened at practice…” His voice trails off as I lean in and brush a kiss across his cheek. I’m not quite sure how to maneuver this new…thing we have.
“Is it that you missed me?” I smile.
He stares at me and opens his mouth but then closes it, a shuttered expression on his face.
“Ryker? What’s wrong?’
He swallows and looks down. “Nothing. It can wait.”
“I see.” But, I don’t. He’s being very tightlipped, which means he isn’t ready to talk about what’s on his mind. “Is everything with Archer okay now?” From covering the games, I know tensions run high among players. Sometimes a good old-fashioned fight can settle things down.
A muscle flexes in his jaw. “No.” He tilts my chin up. “I’ve missed you, Red.”
A blush steals up my cheeks.
“And there’s somewhere I want to take you tonight. A surprise.”
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
He arches a brow, and I’m glad to see his mood seems to be improving. “You’ll want to go. You’ve wanted to see me all day—”
My eyes flare.
He continues. “And I know that because you wore that shirt to get my attention. You can’t tell me no—”
I cock my hip. “I can tell you no, and—”
“Because I suspect you’ve missed seeing my handsome face—”
“I wear what I want to—”
“Maybe I can’t tell you no, Red.”
I stop what was about to come out of my mouth. God. He sure knows how to shut me up. “Good,” I say softly.
He takes my backpack from me and hitches it over his shoulder then tosses an arm around me. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
“I hate surprises,” I tell him as we walk down the aisle.
“Is that so? Even the good ones?”
“Mmhmm. On my tenth birthday, my mom surprised me with a clown, which terrified me. Not to mention I was too old for clowns by then and didn’t give a flip about balloon animals. I really wanted a Justin Bieber birthday, but alas, he was on tour.”
He smirks. “Most people are scared of clowns.”
I nod in agreement. “I barfed on his big yellow shoes. Pretty soon the other kids started puking. Of course, it didn’t help that I’d been reading It—when I was clearly too young for it.”
He chuckles. “I bet you were a handful.”
“I was an angel.” I throw a glance over at him. “What’s the big quarterback afraid of? Spiders? Snakes? Big linebackers?”
He tosses his head back and laughs as we head down the stairs, and I’m glad he’s in a better mood. “You’d never believe it if I told you. And I’d have to swear you to secrecy.”
“Is it creepy?”
“Hmmm, you’ll probably laugh.” He pauses. “I really shouldn’t tell you.”
“You can’t do the old bait and switch with me. Tell me!”
He laughs. “Fine. It’s alektorophobia.” He gives me a questioning look. “Know what that is?”
My mouth curls up. “Come on, you’re asking the girl who’s had a word of the day since she was five. Of course I know what it is. You’re afraid of chickens—but not birds, I suppose, since Vampire Bill didn’t freak you out.”
He smirks. “And it’s not really a phobia. I just wanted to impress you with my vocabulary. It’s more of an irrational fear of roosters.”
I smirk. “Childhood trauma?”
He nods. “At the petting zoo.”
“I’m picturing you running amuck and a mean old rooster chasing you across a field.”