Hail Mary: An Enemies-to-Lovers Roommate Sports Romance(29)

“Wait,” I said.

He turned, his eyes meeting mine along with the rest of them.

“I got this.”

Clay and Zeke exchanged looks before Clay waved his hand over the field as if to say after you.

I nodded, jogging over to where Blake stood. I nudged his arm when I reached him. “You good, Cap?”

Blake tried to smile but it fell flat. “I’m not captain yet.”

“And you won’t be if you keep acting like you don’t belong in that QB1 spot.”

“Maybe I don’t,” he said, his eyes snapping to mine. He was shorter than Holden, softer somehow — and yet, I had seen what he could do, what he was capable of when he turned his brain off. “Coach brought in a freshman QB, remember? Maybe he’ll be the one out here once fall camp starts.”

“Is that what you want?”

He hit me with a look that said what do you think?

“Stop acting like he’s already here, like he’s already better than you. You haven’t even seen him play. Besides, you are the veteran,” I reminded him, pointing my index finger into his chest. “You are the one who led us to a winning season last year. That kid might have talent, but he doesn’t have anything on what you have.”

“Which is?”

“La experiencia,” I answered easily. “Experience. Skill. And a whole team who has your back.”

Blake nodded, the corner of his mouth lifting. “You’re right.”

“Aren’t I always?”

He laughed at that, and I clapped him on the back before turning my attention to where the team had been resting and waiting for direction.

“Alright, fam. You know the drill. You’re here because you want to get better, because you don’t want to waste a single second of this summer while our opponents are out there training for their number one goal — to beat us. They want to see us lose. They want to see us tuck our tails and limp back out of the spotlight where they liked us. But is that what we’re going to do?”

“Hell no!” Clay said from the back, and the rest of the team shot out various agreements.

“Hell fucking no,” I echoed. “No one is here to hold our hands. Coach can’t work with us over the summer except to direct our strength and conditioning staff to get us into shape. But we all came here to work together, and we know what to do.” I grabbed a ball off the field and shoved it into Blake’s hands. “Blake will take offense. Clay, get your defensive players on the backfield. Zeke and Riley, work with special teams and the kicking unit. And if you’re training and you think of something we need to work on, speak up,” I said to the rest of the team. “I don’t care what year you are or what experience you have. In fact, usually, you see more when you’re on the sidelines. So let’s work together. Let’s get better together.”

Clay barked deep and loud like a dog, and the rest of the team beat their chests and nodded and bounced up and down like they were ready to kill.

“Hands in,” Zeke called, and everyone piled their hands one on top of the other. “Family on three. One, two—”

“Family!”

As soon as the word was chanted, the team broke out into the various parts of the field, ready to work.

Blake grabbed my shoulder, squeezing with an appreciative smile. “Thank you,” he said, and then he leaned in a bit closer. “Keep acting like that, and it’s going to be you wearing the Captain badge on your jersey this year.”

I shrugged him off with a joke before we jogged side by side over to work offense together.

But in the back of my mind, a new goal bloomed.

One I would pursue relentlessly.



I was in just as much disbelief as the rest of the team when I turned down the offer to go out after we wrapped practice. They swore it was just to grab pizza and a couple beers, but I knew how quickly that could turn into being out all night long and dragging ass into conditioning in the morning.

For the first time maybe ever, I didn’t want to.

I was tired, and sore, and smelly as hell. I knew I could have a girl in my bed by the end of the night if I went with them, that I could take out some of my pent-up frustration and have a little fun. But it wasn’t just the article and Coach’s words in my ears that stopped me.

I felt focused on football, on my classes, and now — on leading our team.

So, I did what Holden would do. I listened to that smart voice inside my head that said go home, get some rest. And I didn’t feel like I was missing out. In fact, I was relieved.

All I wanted was a shower, sweatpants, tostones, and a night to unwind before I woke up at five thirty tomorrow morning to do it all again.

The house was quiet when I threw my bag onto the bay window. I did a double take, though, because for once, I wasn’t adding it to an already-steeping pile of shit. Instead, it was empty — and there was a new, thick, navy-blue cushion with a stack of books in the windowsill. One glance at that book stack let me know they had to be from Giana’s collection, and I smirked, wondering if Mary read them, too.

With that smile still in place, I lugged my bag back onto my shoulder and hiked it up to my room, instead.

I could have stayed in the shower for hours, letting that hot water massage my sore shoulders and back. After a while, I ran it cold, knowing that was likely what my body needed more than heat, anyway. Then, I toweled off and tugged on my NBU sweatpants, hair still a little wet as I padded down the stairs.