Quarterback Sneak (Red Zone Rivals #3)(79)



For a long moment, she just stared at me, her eyes flicking between mine as she held her chin high. Then, she took one minuscule step toward me, sucking all the air out of the stadium when she did.

“Good morning. I’m still here, too. Every breath burns without you,” she said, her voice wavering a bit.

My throat tightened with pain, even as relief washed over me.

She was answering my texts.

“I haven’t given up on us. You’re crazy if you think I’ve looked anything close to beautiful in this mess of a state I’ve been in. I do trust you.” She paused, smiling, and then whispered. “Merry Christmas.”

A breath of a laugh left my nose.

“This is your win,” she finished, letting those words hang heavy between us. “Go fucking get ’em, Cap.”

And then she jogged through the tunnel with my heart in her hands.

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Julep



“GO! GO! GO!”

I screamed along with the rest of the team as Leo zoomed down the field, the ball tucked into his side as he weaved through the defenders aiming to take him down. He was an animal and ran for nearly forty yards before he was finally dragged to the ground.

The crowd roared, and my heart was in my throat as I looked up at the time on the clock and the score shining back at me.

We were down by four with only twenty seconds left, and not a single timeout.

I thought my dad was going to chew his fingers off as he watched Holden and the rest of our offense scramble back to the line. Leo hadn’t gotten out of bounds, so the clock was still running. As soon as they were lined up, the ball was snapped, and Holden spiked it down to the ground.

The whistle blew, the clock stopped, and now we had thirteen seconds.

“I can’t fucking breathe,” Riley said, her hands clasped on top of her head as she paced next to me.

I felt the same way, but I stayed quiet, focusing on Holden.

“Come on, come on,” I muttered under my breath.

He huddled up the offense, talking through the route he had on his forearm play holder. He clapped, and they all hustled back to the line.

We were up against what the nation saw as the best team — the Central Louisiana University Beavers. And although the crowd was split about fifty-fifty, it sounded as if the whole stadium was a CLU fan as they roared for defense to hold us.

The ball was snapped, and it had no sooner landed in Holden’s hands before he had it sailing toward the left corner of the end zone where Kyle was waiting. But it was tipped, and it bobbled precariously in the air, almost snagged by a safety before it mercifully flew out of bounds.

Six seconds left.

“Fuck,” Zeke cursed under his steepled fingers where he stood next to me.

Clay shouted from beside him, “Come on, boys! Let’s fucking go!”

My stomach turned violently as I watched Holden through the huddle. He had black smeared under his eyes, sweat dripping off his nose, his green eyes severe through the metal slats of his helmet. He called what would likely be our last play, and then they all clapped and got back on the line.

We were only a few yards from the touchdown. Everyone expected us to run it now. It just made sense. But when the ball was snapped, our receivers zigged and zagged and tried to get open in the end zone.

Holden retreated deep in the pocket, eyes scanning, right arm locked back and ready to throw.

No one was open.

Kyle was completely covered, two defensive players making it impossible for him to be a clear throw. Braden had tripped over his own feet and was trying to scramble up.

We were out of time.

The clock ticked down, and I saw Holden looking left and right, all the while watching where his offensive line was struggling to hold the beastly men desperate to sack him.

It was all over.

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but close my eyes and wait for the final whistle to blow. I couldn’t watch him get sacked, couldn’t watch his dream shatter in that fashion.

The crowd was already loud, but a second after my eyes closed, they turned deafening.

I creaked one eye open.

Just in time to see Holden find a hole.

My other eye popped open then, and I screamed, throwing my arms in the air and jumping up and down as he sprinted through the break in the defense on the far-left side of the field. The defenders caught on to his movement just a hair of a second too late, but one of them managed to wrap Holden up and sling him down to the ground with enough force to break bones.

Not that it mattered.

Because he was taken down in the end zone.

Touchdown.

I cried. Tears stung my eyes as I screamed and jumped with the rest of the team. They all poured onto the field, swallowing up our offensive players who were out there while the Beavers hung their heads in disbelief. Confetti rained down a second later, and Riley jumped out of Zeke’s arms and wrapped me in a crushing hug. We jumped up and down together, hair bouncing, both of us screaming loud enough to burst the other’s ear drums.

They’d done it.

They’d won.

We were going to the championship game.





Holden



It was absolute madness after the final whistle blew.

Confetti stuck to my sweaty face as I tore off my helmet just in time to be hoisted into the air. I threw my fists up in victory, chanting NBU! NBU! with the rest of my team as they paraded me around the field.

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