Quarterback Sneak (Red Zone Rivals #3)(42)

And yet…

I had no explanation for my behavior last night other than the fact that he’d driven me to the brink of insanity with just one fucking kiss. I’d seen him standing in his window.

Watching me.

And that power had tipped me over the edge of rationality.

Chills had raked over me when I unclasped my bra, when I saw his breath hitch even through the soft glow of the streetlight that cast him in an eerie shadow. I didn’t even know how much he could see, but I knew he didn’t look away.

Still, he hadn’t responded to my text after I’d pulled the blinds shut, and I had no idea how he felt about what happened between us — the kiss, or anything since.

I looked for any sign that he was as consumed with thoughts about me like I was about him. I longed to know he felt the same torturous burn that I did, that sense that we couldn’t do anything more without risking a full-on fire.

But the overpowering instinct to light a match, anyway.

When we made it to the South Hartford Stadium, I stood beside JB as we watched the team file off the buses, letting each of them know when and where we wanted to see them. I held my breath when Holden trailed down the steps, when he moved toward us with power and focus rolling off him in plumes.

Every player looked to him for their energy cue, some of them stopping mid-laugh while horsing around once he stepped off the bus. They fell in line behind him, channeling his calm essence, and he nodded to some of them while clapping others on the back. It was fascinating to watch, the way just one touch or glance from him could change a player’s entire demeanor, could wipe the stress off their face and give them the space to take a deep breath.

Even injured, Holden was captain, the team’s leader, their king.

He didn’t look at me once.





By some miracle, we pulled out the win.

It was a miracle not because the game was particularly brutal — which it was — or that the score was close the entire game — which it also was — but because South Hartford’s fans made every second of play time absolutely miserable.

They were loud, vulgar, and a level of rude I didn’t know existed. I’d been shocked by how deafening they’d been when we ran through the tunnel, booing and slinging out harassing threats. They didn’t chant the usual NBU sucks!, either — they were personal. They targeted Riley as a girl, called out Kyle for his social media stunts, and even preyed on Clay for the terrible things he’d gone through with his family last semester.

Holden had to physically hold him back with a hard hand on his shoulder when they started making jokes about his mom.

They were relentless, screaming so loud when our offense was on the line that Blake could barely be heard calling out the plays. Holden was steady through it all, though, watching on the sidelines with his arms folded hard over his chest. He pulled each player aside at one point or another during the game, holding them by the helmet as he told them what they needed to hear.

And somehow, by some strike of luck, we’d managed to hold them, to keep the score close.

In the end, a last-second field goal had sealed the win.

I could still see it as I showered in my hotel room, the way Clay and Zeke had carted Riley up onto their shoulders and paraded her around the field as the fans were silent for the first time all game. It was the most beautiful sight, that sweet vendetta.

I could also still see the concern in my father’s eyes when we’d checked into the hotel, the team rowdy and ready to celebrate. He’d watched me from his peripheral the entire time he stood at the lobby desk, and when he handed me my key, he held onto it a touch longer than necessary.

“I’m proud of you,” he said.

I swallowed, holding the key with my eyes on the ground below it. “Why?”

“Because you’ve really turned a corner, Julep. I can see it in everything that you do. Tonight, on the sidelines, working with the players… I haven’t seen you that focused, that passionate about anything since…”

He cleared his throat, and I looked down, hoping he wouldn’t finish that sentence. He didn’t need to.

“I just… I don’t want you to throw this away,” he said softer, finally releasing the key.

I almost laughed. “I’m going to bed, Dad,” I told him, finally meeting his eyes. “I’m tired.”

Dad nodded, though concern still etched his brow. “Good. Me, too.”

It wasn’t a lie. The exhaustion I felt was bone deep as I cut the hot water of the shower and stepped out, wrapping myself in a towel. I combed out my wet hair and slathered my face with night cream. Giana and Riley were my roommates tonight — which was fitting, since we were the only females traveling with the team. Apparently, Riley was used to rooming by herself as the only female player, and Giana was typically assigned a room with her boss, Charlotte.

But tonight, it was the three of us, and I was looking forward to eating pizza and passing the fuck out.

All those dreams were dashed when I emerged from the bathroom to find Giana hair-spraying her curls while Riley finished off her makeup.

They both looked at me at the same time, exchanged a look, and before they could even say a word, I knew what was about to happen.

“We’re going out, aren’t we?” I asked on a sigh.

They just smiled in answer, and without argument, I flipped open my suitcase and pulled out the one dress I’d packed just in case this happened.