“WHAT THE FUCK are they doing here?” I ask.
Chauncey and I watch as the Columbus Tigers come onto the field. The offense takes over the opposing end zone and starts to run basic plays while we watch.
“Is this Coach’s surprise?” Chauncey looks at me. “He’s a sadist.”
Finding number seven, Callum throws a pass that spirals perfectly into the hands of a receiver. Callum raises a hand in the air before turning and finding me. He stares at me for a long minute, going so far as to take off his helmet to make it clear who he’s looking at.
I wave.
My entire body shivers as a shot of testosterone mixed with adrenaline shoots though me. “It’s gonna be a long day, Chauncey,” I say, heading back to our huddle.
Coach is in the center of our offense with a clipboard. “Okay, boys. We’re trying something different today. This will demonstrate how necessary it is for you to be willing to change it up and go with the flow, all right? I want all backs and receivers to join the Tigers’ offense. All linemen and Frutter,” he says, nodding to our quarterback, “down with the Tigers’ defense.”
Finn is across from me. Our eyes meet for a split second before he looks away.
Coach ends the huddle and we all start off to our assigned positions. I hang back a little and step in time with Finn.
“Hey,” I say, looking up at him.
“What?”
“How are you?”
“Good.”
“Great. That’s great,” I say, sarcasm thick in my voice. “When are you going to stop this?”
“Never.”
Blowing out a breath, I take my assignment from the Tigers coach and line up on the outside. Finn lines up on the far side of the field. I’m too irritated with him to listen to the play Callum calls.
The play starts, the defense rushing. I break around the side only to turn around and have the ball smashing against the side of my helmet about a good four steps too early.
The ball falls to the grass, the play stopped, as I look up at the sound of my name.
“Gotta keep your head up, Best, if you want to catch it,” Callum taunts, glaring at me through his facemask.
“Get the ball where it’s supposed to be and I will.”
We line up again. The play starts, and this time I don’t even get a step off the line before the ball pelts me in the side.
This is something I could normally laugh off because he obviously looks like the idiot. But it’s Callum. He’s calling me out, and I’m not about to back down.
Unlatching my chin strap, I yank off my helmet. My cleats dig into the field as I march my way through the linemen and to Callum.
His helmet is off by the time I reach him, his pupils narrow.
“What the fuck?” I shout, the vein in my temple pulsing. “You got a problem, Worthington?”
“Just a receiver that can’t catch a ball.”
I grin, one I know he’ll read into. “Oh, I can catch. I think you can’t keep it within reach.”
We’re nose-to-nose, sweat dripping down our faces. Neither of us will look away. I barely register Finn’s hand on my chest guiding me backwards. I swat it down.
“You got something you wanna say?” I ask the quarterback. “Say it, motherfucker.”
“Easy, Best,” the Tigers’ coach says, but I ignore him.
“How do my seconds taste?” Callum grins. “God, she’s good, isn’t she—”
My hand connects to his face, right against the cheekbone. He drops his helmet with a thud. Recoiling, he rears back, but my fist smashes him again, this time in the mouth.
Every cell in my body wants to rip him apart. I lunge forward, seeing red, but feel hands on me, pushing me back. Callum gets farther away as a body physically comes between us.
“I’ll fucking kill you!” I yell over top of the Tigers’ coach separating us. “You hear me, cocksucker? I’ll kill you.”
Callum laughs, his eyes slits in his face. “Go home and fuck that little whore. Tell her I said ‘hi.’”
In slow motion, Finn’s hand comes over top of the coach and rocks Callum. Callum trips over his own feet, crashing into the grass.
All hell breaks loose and I try to break free and get to him again, but am pulled backwards. Our team lines up in front of me and Finn so we can’t even see Callum anymore.
We’re sucking in air, adrenaline still high and strong. I angle to see Worthington, but it’s no use.
“What the fuck are you two thinking?” Coach is in our face out of nowhere, ready to blow a gasket. “What could have possibly happened in two fucking plays to cause that? Huh?”
“He deserved it, Coach,” I say, still seething. “But if you put me back out there, I’ll kill him. Just letting you know.”
“You’re out of here today. You too, Miller.” He turns his attention, and disappointment, to Finn. “I almost expect this out of Best, but you? Pick your friends more carefully.”
“Best is a fuck-up, sir, but he was right this time.” Finn takes off his helmet, his hands pulling at the face guard.
“Gee, thanks,” I say, shaking my head. “Can you cut me some fucking slack?”
“You impregnated my sister,” Finn growls. “You want to do this here, Branch?”
“I don’t want to do this anywhere. I want you to stop being a dick.”
“Both of you!” Coach booms. “To the locker room and get off team property until tomorrow morning. You better come back with a better attitude, got it?”
“Yes, sir,” I mutter, bumping Finn in the shoulder as I walk by.
I watch for Callum all the way to the locker room, but don’t see him. My helmet goes sailing across the room, hitting a folding chair. The sound blasts against the lockers.
Falling onto the chair with my name on it in front of my locker, I put my head in my hands. My head pounds, my jaws aching from clenching my teeth so long.
Finn comes in, shoving his shit on the ground and dropping into his chair. He’s across the room from me.
It’s perfectly quiet, only the sound of our breathing breaking the peace. Once I’ve caught my breath and my blood pressure is somewhat stabilized, I look up. Finn does at the same time.
He tries to glare at me, but he fails miserably. At the same time, we start laughing. It begins as a slow chuckle and ends up with an all-out cackle.
“God, I want to kill him,” Finn laughs, catching his breath. “That was a decent right hand you had there.”
“Fuck him. Fuck that motherfucker.”
“What did he say to you?”
“Want to go to jail?” I ask him, raising a brow. “Because if I tell you, you will. I’m the one getting that pleasure and when I do, someone needs to bail my ass out.”
This silences my friend. He hangs his head. “I’m not sorry I hit you,” Finn says. “But I’m sorry I did it as hard as I did.”
“Nah,” I say, standing up and taking off my shoulder pads. “If you hadn’t given it all you had, I’d have called you a pussy.”
“That wasn’t all I had.”
“The hell it wasn’t,” I taunt, grabbing my stuff for the showers. “But I get it. And I respect it.”
He takes a deep breath and walks across the room, stopping a few feet in front of me. Extending a hand, I take it and we shake.
“Layla said you went with her to the doctor,” he says.
“I did. It was amazing. I know what that sounds like, but I don’t have any other way to explain it,” I shrug. “I did that, you know? It’s . . . incredible.”
“I think it’s nice you think it’s incredible and I’m really glad you went with her.”
“I told you I was going to be there for her.” I force a swallow. “In all honesty, when I said that originally, I really meant the baby more than her. But now . . . I mean it. I want to be there for her, Finn. And I hope you understand what I mean by that.”
He returns my smile. “Just be good to her, okay? Because if you don’t, I’ll show you just how much power I have in both hands.”
Laughing, I head to the showers. “You aren’t doing this just to get Poppy’s pussy back, are you?”
“Not totally . . .”
We laugh again and there isn’t any more to say. Things are getting back on track, even if my hand might be broken.
“LUCKY! WE HAVE a couple of questions.”
A reporter for Exposé is waiting by my car. I wonder vaguely how she got in the facility as security is pretty good at weeding out the media except in designated areas.
“I’m not really in the chatting mood,” I say, hitting the unlock button.
“We were sure you’d want to set the record straight.” The woman looks at me with a smug grin. “But if not . . .”
My blood cools in my veins, the hair on the back of my neck standing up. “Set it straight about what?”
“We know about your fight with Worthington, and Miller, for that matter—”
“Already?” I ask, opening the back door and tossing my bag in. “How does that shit get out so fast?”
“We have our ways.”
“I guess.” Closing the door, I lean against it. “So what am I commenting on?”
She’s too excited to talk about this. I’ve been around enough to know if a reporter is giddy, that spells bad news for me.
“I really need to get going. I have something I need to do.” Turning, my hand is on the handle when she speaks.
“We hope you work everything out. You’ve always been so good about talking to us, so to see someone do this to you . . .”
She wins.
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“We were just told that Miller’s sister is pinning a baby on you.”
“What?” I bark. “Who the fuck told you that?”
“So it’s not true?”
“No, it’s not fucking true. No one is pinning a baby on me.” Annoyed, I jerk open the driver’s door.
“Callum said that’s what the fight was about on the field,” she says sweetly. “That she’s pinning the baby on both of you, not sure whose it is, and that’s what caused tempers to boil on the field today.”
I watch her click the recorder in her hand through the reflection in the glass as my breathing gets shallow, my pulse strumming. I’m too shocked to even respond. My brain simply won’t compute this.
All I can see is Layla’s face and wonder what this will do to her. It’s not true. There’s no fucking doubt about that. But she’s going to be humiliated to think people—Callum—are saying this.
“It has to be hard for Miller to be in the middle of this,” she says. “I mean, you were his best friend. That has to be difficult, right?”
“What did Callum actually say?” I ask. “What were his exact words?”
She whips out her phone and logs onto the Exposé website. Front and center is a video with Callum front and center.
She presses play.
“It was really no big deal,” Callum says, wiping his brow. “Just a little heated personalities over a girl in common.” He listens to someone off camera and shrugs. “Yeah, I mean I was with her for a long time, up until a month or two ago. We were having a break, working things out, and then she apparently sleeps with Best. I had no idea, obviously, until today. I thought the baby was mine—at least, that’s what she told me. I guess we’ll wait and see.”
“That’s bullshit,” I say, shoving her phone out of my face as I clamor to get to Layla.
“Is that your statement?”
Scowling, I climb in my car and stick the key in the ignition. “Yeah. That’s my statement.”
Barely getting the door closed, I peel out of the parking spot.