Quarterback Sneak (Red Zone Rivals #3)(13)

“That’s because you’re both sappy romantics who don’t think about consequences before acting,” I pointed out.

Neither of them argued.

“What’s the worst that could happen by asking her out?” Uncle Kevin probed.

“Other than her saying no, which at this point she definitely would?” I shrugged. “Oh, you know — Coach sitting me on the bench my last season, or worse, kicking me off the team altogether.”

“He couldn’t do that,” Nathan tried.

“Oh, but he could,” I argued back. “And he would. He’s made that abundantly clear.” I sighed, shifting Joanne in my arms as she curled into my chest. “No matter how I spin it, Julep Lee is off limits. Besides, I don’t have time to date anyone.”

“Here we go,” Nathan murmured.

“I don’t even know why I brought this up to you two,” I said, shaking my head. “I should have known I couldn’t mention a girl without you trying to plan my future wedding with her.”

“I was picturing more of an elopement, actually,” Uncle Kevin said, sweeping his hands over the air in front of him like they were making a screen. “Italy. Or Greece!”

“Oh, I love a destination wedding,” Nathan chimed in.

I chuckled, standing as steadily and quietly as I could before maneuvering Joanne into the bouncer. “Sorry to crush your dreams. You’ll have to settle for football being my true love.”

“For now,” Nathan said, and he winked at my uncle Kevin as if they knew all the secrets in the world that I had yet to unveil.

But I knew no matter how optimistic my uncles were, this was one love match no one could make — not even them.

It didn’t matter that my dead heart sparked at the sight of Julep Lee, or that I found it impossible to stay away from her, no matter how much I knew I should.

In the end, it would never be us.

So, I’d settle for the annoying quarterback who could get under her skin.

And maybe, with time, a friend.





The first couple weeks of the fall semester blew past like a fresh New England breeze.

As it did every season, my life became a tornado of football practice, weight training, film and meetings peppered in-between a full schedule of classes, nights of unending homework, and checking in on my teammates to make sure they were all on track. A sacred piece of me fired up in the fall, coming to life beneath the pressure to perform not just as an athlete, but as a student and a leader on the team, as well.

I didn’t have time to think about anything other than football, and that was just the way I liked it.

My favorite of it all?

The games.

We won our first two, the home opener against one of our rivals and our first away game against Buffalo University. After our embarrassing Bowl loss to end last season, the wins set us up with the momentum I’d prayed for all off-season, the entire team buzzing with the notion that maybe we could get to the championship this year, after all.

For me, there was no maybe.

There was only the undeniable fact that we would make it to that game.

And we’d win it, too.

I was a redshirt freshman, which meant that technically, I could stay another year and play next season for NBU if I wanted to. But after my last two seasons, I had the attention of scouts and general managers across the National Football League, and I knew if we performed the same way this year, if we won championship?

I could graduate, shift my focus, and go into the draft at the end of the season.

And I could go pro in the first round.

Nothing lit me up like that possibility. Nothing made my head clearer. Nothing wiped away any and all distractions like having my dream within reach.

It was barbarically hot the Monday practice after our win against SHU, fall teasing us by bringing in cooler nights without bothering to do the same for our afternoons. I knew in the blink of an eye we’d be playing in the freezing cold rain or sleet or even snow. But today, sweat dripped into my eyes as I huddled with the regular offensive squad to call our play.

“Okay, regulars. Blue lizard wing right, forty-six, full cross, on two. Ready?”

“Break,” they all chanted with me, and then we were jogging to our places on the line.

The heat was dizzying as the sun moved out from behind the clouds, and I scanned the defensive line up, the play I’d just called like a movie on the screen in my mind that I ran back over and over again, making sure there was nothing in the way the defense was lining up that would cause enough issue for me to change.

I felt confident with the call, so I called out the cues again to each side of the line before I bent and waited for the snap.

“Set… hut!”

All noise, all motion on the line fell into the background of my mind as the ball hit my hands.

I stood, ignoring the grunting and digging of cleats into the field right there in front of me as I pulled back into the pocket and searched for my receiver. It was the perfect play call, and Kyle Robbins easily found an opening before I set the ball sailing through the air.

I only had time to watch him catch it before I was taken to the ground, not in a sack but in the aftermath of an offensive lineman being brought down by two defensive players.

It should have been an easy fall.

It should have been nothing more than an uncomfortable pressure of weight as those players toppled on top of me.