Quarterback Sneak: A Forbidden Sports Romance (Red Zone Rivals)

“Whose house?!”

“Our house!”

“Whose house?!”

“Our house!”

Clay was a beast as he stalked around the locker room, grabbing players by their face masks as he chanted. The energy in the room rose each time he did, every reply shouted louder and louder. Leo bounced on his toes, murmuring to himself as he smacked his helmet and hyped himself up. Riley was silent, her eyes a little dazed where she stared off into space, and Zeke stood beside her, nodding like he was listening to music, like the beat was thumping through his veins.

I watched from where I sat on the bench in front of my locker, elbows on my knees and hands clasped in the middle. Blake Russo glanced at me, the nerves evident in his eyes when he did. I gave him a simple nod, a look that told him he could do this.

I shoved down the part of me that wished he’d fail, that longed for the day when I’d rip back the title of QB1.

We needed this win. We needed every win we could get to earn our place at the championship game.

As if he was reading my mind, Coach Lee caught my gaze from where he was huddled with Coach Hoover in the corner, the two of them muttering to each other behind the barrier of their clipboards. He paused the conversation, giving me a look that told me he wanted to see me step up, get the team pumped, get them ready.

Injured or not, I was still captain.

I had the responsibility even if I didn’t have the reward.

Blowing out a breath, I stood, making my way to the center of the room before I closed the lid of a cooler and climbed on top of it. I didn’t have to whistle or cheer or clap my hands to get anyone’s attention. One by one, my teammates turned toward me, quieting as they did.

“This is a big one,” I started, and I felt the truth of that bearing down on my chest like an anvil. “The Lions are tough. They’re going to test you, all of you. They have a team full of players just like you, who want the same thing as you want.”

I locked eyes with a few players, who swallowed, nodding.

“Which means you have to prove you want it more.”

“Whose house?!” Clay yelled from the back.

“Our house!” the team chanted back.

“Our house,” I echoed, slamming my fist into my chest. “Our field. Our fans. Our win.” I scanned the room, locking eyes with each player. “I don’t want you to think about the championship game, or a bowl game, or any other game other than the one right here, right now. Focus — that’s what will get this win. One play at a time. Be smart,” I told them, tapping the side of my temple. “Be patient. Be confident. They may push, but we push back harder.”

There was a roar of agreement, and then I nodded at Clay, hopping down to let him take over in leading the team in a chant. I threw one arm around Blake and the other around Riley as we all bounced as a team, the energy in the room swelling to the point of combusting.

My heart felt the same where it beat against the bones of my rib cage.

Something was off, even as I encouraged my teammates and followed them out onto the field like I had every game since I’d been injured, I didn’t feel the same. I was only half here, which was a feeling I wasn’t used to. On game days, my focus was always solely on football.

But today, Julep swam in the back of my mind.

As the team ran through the tunnel and out onto the field, I jogged behind.

And I caught her gaze as I passed.

Those dark eyes didn’t leave mine, and time seemed to hesitate, my breath long and slow, legs delayed as if I were running underwater. She held my stare even as I passed her, and I watched her as I did, turning back over my shoulder until I had no choice but to face forward again.

When I did, I nearly slammed into Coach Lee.

His hands shot out to stop me before I could, careful to avoid my shoulder, and then he paused there with me in his grip. He looked behind me at his daughter, then turned that glare down to me.

He didn’t have to say a word for me to know what he was thinking.

We won.

We won, and I tried to be happy.

We won, and I tried to remind myself it was a good thing.

But my pride was bruised and beaten, angry and tired of being ignored — and it wasn’t going to let me skate by any longer without it going noticed.

I was a recluse the Sunday after the game, hiding in my bedroom with the door locked. Leo tried to get me to go out. Kyle tried to get me to play video games. Clay and Zeke both tried to get me to fifth wheel with them, Giana, and Riley to the Topsfield Fair. And my uncles tried to get me to join them for dinner, to help choose my baby cousin’s first Halloween outfit.

I ignored them all.

The truth was I was almost embarrassed by the petulant frustration that rolled off me like steam, and I knew if I let even one member of the team get a whiff of it, it could start problems. I didn’t want any rumors going around that I wasn’t supportive of Blake, of the team as a whole, that I was a sore loser — or in this case, a sore, injured winner.

I took the day to rest, to read and listen to music and try to recenter myself.

I was still the captain, and I needed to remind myself of that.

Just like I needed to remind myself to stop getting so caught up with Julep.

She’d been a distraction for me during the game. I couldn’t stop thinking about the yard sale, about what she’d revealed to me. To know she’d suffered the same loss as I had, that she understood not just grief but that particular brand of it…

It shifted something inside me, something I knew would never move back.

It was nearly impossible not to reach for her on that chilly morning, to not hold her and tell her I got it. It was like a lightbulb going off, an aha! moment.

That ghost I’d seen in her eyes since the first time I met her, I knew what it was now.

It was the same as mine.

As if wanting her physically hadn’t driven me mad enough, as if pushing her buttons didn’t rev me up, as if that bickering with her and making her roll her eyes didn’t light some dead part of me back to life — now, I felt a connection to her I’d never felt to anyone in my entire life.

And I had to cut it out of me like a bullet.

Coach saw what I thought I hid so well. He didn’t have to say it for me to know, especially with how he watched me the entire game, how he ensured I didn’t get too close to Julep.

Which was why, on Monday morning when I showed up for PT, I wasn’t the least bit surprised to find JB waiting for me instead of her.

“I hear we’re making good progress,” he said, patting the table for me to hop up. I did, trying not to be as grumpy as I had been all weekend, while he stretched my shoulder. “Julep seems to think you could start practicing this week.”

I couldn’t even find a glimmer of hope inside me.

“The shot help?”

I nodded.

“Any pain while you’re sleeping, or showering, any regular activity setting it off?”

I shook my head.

JB grew quiet, watching me as he maneuvered my arm this way and that, assessing. “We’re moving you forward in the recovery process, that’s why I’ll be taking over.”

The corner of my mouth lifted, and I gave him a look.

The one he offered in return told me he knew that was bullshit just as much as I did.

After physical therapy, I sat out for another practice. JB wanted to look over my chart before he made any other decisions. The team was on a high from the win, everyone smiling and laughing and joking around.

“You good, Cap?” Leo asked me on a water break.

I nodded from where I was studying the playbook. “Never been better.”

He frowned, opening his mouth to say something, but before he got the chance, Coach Lee came up behind him and clapped him on the back, signaling it was time for him to get back to work.

When Leo was gone, Coach stood next to where I was on the bench, his arms crossed and eyes on the field where offense was running drills.

“I spoke with JB,” he said. “He’s cleared you to come back to practice tomorrow.”

My chest sparked with the first sign of life since the game Saturday.

“Thank you, sir,” I said.

“It’s just practice,” he clarified. “No promise on the game this weekend.”

“I understand, sir.”

He turned then. “I hope you do, Moore. I hope you understand very clearly what your role is on this team, both as quarterback and as captain.”

I tried to hide the bob of my throat as I lifted my gaze from the playbook to meet his.

“You’re a leader,” he reminded me. “Everyone on this team looks to you as their first point of direction for how to behave.”

My mouth was dry as I nodded in understanding.

Coach Lee bent then, his face right in front of mine as he said, “Julep is a good girl. She’s worked her ass off to climb out of the pits of hell.” He shoved his finger so hard into my chest I knew it’d bruise. “Keep your head in the game, and your hands off my daughter.”

Then he stood, blew the whistle, and called the end of practice.