Looking to Score(32)

Oakley cleared his throat and spread out his palms, like he was some Bible Belt preacher delivering a sermon. “Every year before the first home game, the freshmen are gathered here on this hallowed ground.”

I looked around and scrunched my nose at the sight of a used condom tossed on the side of the path. Hallowed, indeed.

“Devil’s Backbone is the most haunted road in Texas. Grown men have attempted to cross the five mile pass and have run home screaming for their mommies with piss dripping down their legs.”

“That is a visual I could do without,” I groaned.

“Your objective is to get the ball to the end of the road—the end zone—safely. She’s the most important part of the game. You protect her at all costs.”

“So I have to walk five miles in the dark with the three dudes in their underwear?” I asked while nodding toward said three dudes. I was ready to get this show on the road.

“Yes,” Oakley replied dryly.

“I thought the ball was supposed to be the captain’s girlfriend,” another player interjected.

“Yeah, this ball is too chatty. Can we get another?”

“Enough!” Oakley yelled. “Amanda is the ball. Our captain is out with strep throat. I’m running this show, okay? Let’s hurry up so we can go drink.” At Oakley’s declaration, everyone started cheering. Idiots. I was surrounded by idiots.

“One last thing,” Oakley said while stepping up to me. I held my breath and clenched my fist to stop myself from nailing him in the jaw. “It’s tradition for the captain to give the ball a kiss.”

His words were smoky and dark. He lifted up his hand and ran it down my arm. I simply smirked. “Well, then I guess you’ll have to catch me,” I replied, walking over to my team.

Game on, motherfucker.





15





I turned and started walking in the opposite direction of the van. That was literally the only thing I had to orient myself. I sure as hell wasn’t about to ask Oakley which way to go. I didn’t hear the thudding of heavy feet behind me, so I turned and called out, “Are you assholes coming, or are you going to let the ball show you up?”

I guessed that did the trick, because I heard three sets of shoes crunching over rocks and leaves. It hadn’t struck me as funny until just now that the players were stripped down to their underwear but were still wearing shoes. I giggled to myself thinking about these big tough guys in their boxers and tennis shoes.

Then reality set in. I was still scared shitless. Nobody knew where I was, and I wasn’t sure that I could trust three fresh outta high school guys to keep me safe if shit went down.

I didn’t believe in ghosts or the paranormal, but they still scared the hell out of me. I could feel all the hairs on my arms standing up. Oakley’s little speech about this being the most haunted road got to me. All I wanted was to be back at home in a nice hot bath, making lists of the different ways I could kill Oakley and get away with it.

There was a worn path illuminated by the moonlight we vaguely followed. After aimlessly walking for fifteen minutes, I learned that the shorter dude was named Ryan, the tallest was a fuckboy named Heath, and the redhead was Kyle. They surrounded me as we walked, with fuckboy Heath at my back. I could feel his beady eyes on my ass as we traveled.

“This isn’t so bad,” I commented, mostly trying to reassure myself.

“That’s because defense hasn’t jumped out of the trees yet,” Kyle whispered to my left.

Oh.

So the other players were going to jump out of the trees at us? Cool. Cool coolcoolcoolcooooooool.

“About when should we expect creepy dudes jumping out at us?” I asked while looking up at the shadowy trees lining the path on both sides of us.

“Now,” a deep voice said with a chuckle.

A man roughly the size of Chris Hemsworth fell from the trees like a motherfucking ninja. He looked all badass, roaring and shit as he surged forward and lunged for me.

I screamed, because that’s a normal response to a big dude jumping out of the forest at you. Heath grabbed me around the middle while Ryan went to tackle our attacker. One second my feet were firmly planted on the ground, and the next I was slung over fuckboy’s shoulder and had his massive hand resting on my clenched ass as he sprinted away. My boobs bounced against his back, and I demanded he put me down.

“Protect the ball at all cost!” he yelled.

What was it with dudes protecting their balls?

This ball wanted to go home.

A girlish scream that came from Ryan made me giggle. It was loud and frantic, like a woman screeching. Kyle was running beside us, looking over his shoulder to see if we were being chased. “We lost Ryan!” he yelled.

“Leave him,” Heath replied breathlessly.

Damn. All’s fair in love and war and hazing games at the Devil’s Backbone.

I was suddenly very happy to be the ball after all, mostly because I didn’t have to run like hell. Kyle and Heath had been jogging for about a minute, and my boobs were starting to hurt from all the jiggling. I really wished that I had just stayed in my sports bra that morning. But no. I had to be an adult and put on a real bra with underwire and everything.

“Hey, guys, as fun as this is, I don’t think we’re being chased anymore. Can you put me down?” I directed toward Heath. He reached the hand that wasn’t supporting my weight up to hold my back and lowered me down. He managed to brush my breast as I was sliding down off his shoulder. Before pulling away, he gave it a light squeeze. The feminist in me wanted to grab him by the balls and twist, but the survivalist in me didn’t want to piss off one of the dudes whose entire focus was getting me to safety. I decided to let it slide. For now.