The Better to Bite (Howl #1)(16)

He did look pretty awesome. Yes, indeed.

Then the coach left him. Brent looked up at the bleachers. His gaze swept over the crowd, like he was looking for someone. Like—

He waved.

I glanced over my shoulder at the exact moment that Jenny told me, “OhmyGod! He’s waving at you.”

I looked back at the field. Brent was smiling now. I couldn’t see his dimples, not from this far away, but it would have been impossible to miss the flash of his white teeth.

Using that death-grip on my arm, Jenny jerked up my hand and waved back at him.

A referee blew his whistle and a drumbeat of music rolled over the loudspeakers.

Brent turned away.

“Oh, she totally hates you,” Jenny said in her cheerful voice.

Because she did sound so cheerful, it took a moment for her words to register. “What?” I dragged my gaze off Brent. Not really interested in you. He was sure acting interested.

Rafe could bite me.

“Drift your gaze five feet to the right,” she directed me.

I did. The cheerleaders were making a pyramid. Well, most of them were. Valerie wasn’t climbing up that human wall because she had her hands on her hips, and she was too busy glaring at me.

“Should I wave to her, too?” I wondered.

“Definitely not,” Jenny told me, and laughed. The sound was just as light as always. Happy.

I was starting to like Jenny’s laughs.

“Oh, and, look, there’s Rafe.”

My gaze darted around the bleachers. It took me a minute to realize that Jenny meant Rafe was there, as in, on the field. As in…he was number thirteen. Wait, wasn’t that supposed to be unlucky? “I didn’t know he played.” Didn’t know, didn’t care. And if I didn’t stop having those stupid dreams about him and wolves—I’d had them every night that week—I was gonna freak.

“Sure, he’s great!” Her hands slapped together in an enthusiastic clap. “He can stop anyone.”

Um, okay.

The coin toss was over. I didn’t even know who’d won. Rafe had donned his helmet and taken up his position on the field.

For some reason, I started to feel nervous.

Then the game began. It began with a roar. The other team kicked the football and it flew high in the air, soaring, soaring…the green jerseys raced forward and number sixteen caught the ball. Everyone around me screamed.

I knew my ears would be dead by the end of this game.

The minutes ticked by as everyone's attention locked on the field. There were downs, tackles, and the teams tossed control of the ball back and forth.

The ball moved fast, flying around the field, but the players, they moved faster.

Not all the players…Rafe. Maybe I was just focusing on him too much, but the guy seemed to be eating up that field way too quickly. As I watched, he slammed into the guy trying to race away with ball, and the Mayville Marauder with the bright red uniform went down with a thud.

Everyone jumped off the bleachers and screamed—again.

I realized I needed to take a breath.

Rafe rose and offered his hand to the guy on the ground. Very slowly, the downed player took that hand.

The teams lined up for a new play. Ball. Pass. Run…

Rafe took another guy down. I heard the thud of the bodies that time.

“He’s…” I wet my lips. Why did I feel so tense? “He’s really fast.” And strong. Much stronger than I’d realized.

“Wait until Brent gets some action.” Jenny sounded all cocky.

I didn’t have to wait long. In just seconds, our team had control of the ball once more. I saw Brent turn his head, and I figured he was calling out plays or something, then…

The ball was in the air. Brent had hurtled the football in a perfect toss that flew and flew and—

Troy caught the ball, right in front of the ten yard line. Actually, the ball slammed into his chest, and it looked like it hit him hard enough to bruise. Troy stumbled back, staggered, and did a fast two step to regain his balance, then he hurried into the end zone.

The screams and yells grated in my ears.

Brent headed toward the bench as the other players slapped him on the back. I saw Valerie make a beeline right for him. My eyes narrowed on that chick.

Brent drained a cup of water and walked around the bench. Valerie held out her hands to him, looking totally like she was about to give him a congratulatory hug.

He caught her hands, pushed her back, then turned away.

Burn.

“Oh, wow, did you see that?” Jenny whispered.

I had.

Valerie lifted her chin and stomped away. I almost felt bad for her. Then she looked up and pinned me with a fuming glare.

Maybe not almost.

The poundings began again. Because that's what was happening on the field. The other team was just getting pounded. But this time, our team seemed to get the ball even faster. And when we were up again, instead of throwing a pass, Brent held tight to the ball. He ran in between the players, snaking left and right, and number thirteen was right with him, guarding him from every attack. Rafe slammed into the opposing players, clearing a path for Brent. The white lines on the field vanished in a blur.

End zone.

The bleachers actually trembled beneath the stomping feet. I held onto my seat, worried I was about to go tumbling.

“Aren’t they incredible?” Jenny asked, voice breathless.