Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 70294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
And he’d been trying to make my life, and Luke’s, a living hell tonight.
I respected Valen’s skill.
But I still wanted him out of my goddamn face when I needed a football in my hands.
We were in formation for what felt like forever.
Then finally, the whistle blew out.
I had to track multiple movements at once, with my eyes, my body, and my fucking soul, truthfully.
A long time ago, my varsity coach had told me something cheesy that had stuck with me ever since.
Pretend you and the football are one.
Together.
Like it wants to come to you, and you only.
Kind of woo-woo. But I thought about it all the time, to this day.
And right now, with Valen on my ass at every fucking second, I really needed that football to woo-woo its way right into my pretty little pocket.
I tried not to give away a goddamned inch of my movement.
Not with my eyes, not with my body language.
But I must have let something slip for a moment, because as soon as I moved left, Valen was after me like I had a blinking sign above my head.
As I sprinted across the turf he was my constant companion.
“Keep trying, Peachel,” he uttered under his breath. “Hyenas are taking it tonight.”
“Like fuck you are.”
Just as the ball came in, I thought I could get an angle to catch it. But the closer it got, the more I realized that it was impossible.
Valen was going to intercept it if I didn’t stop him.
No.
Fuck no.
Instead of trying to catch the ball I reached out far, shoving it away the moment before it hit Valen.
Incomplete.
Thank the Lord above.
The rest of the third quarter was as tooth-and-nail as the whole first half had been. The Tempests were playing great, but the Hyenas had gotten a lot tighter since we’d last played them, too.
Luke and I couldn’t make anything happen, and I felt my heart sink into my stomach when the game ended up 10 to 7 by the end of the quarter, the Hyenas coming out ahead of us.
And when the fourth quarter started up, I watched hell break loose.
Our defense let Brett Mickels, their wide receiver, right into the goddamn end zone.
“No,” I shouted, moving without thinking.
I went over to the table beside me, reaching out and knocking over a big stack of plastic cups, scattering them over the edge of the grass.
My heart pounded in my chest.
I never lost my temper like that.
But Tuscaloosa had just scored the easiest touchdown I’d ever seen, right in front of my eyes.
The crowd was pissed, too. I let out a breath, glancing at Luke and seeing the rage in his eyes.
“We take it back,” Luke said. “Trust.”
17 to 7, and we had a quarter left to bring it back.
A moment later I glanced over at Gray again and I did something I shouldn’t have. I ran over to him for a moment, looking in his eyes.
“I’m going to do this,” I told him. “End of story.”
“Do your worst, Peachel,” he said, nodding. “I’m here.”
The fire inside me was burning even hotter when I made my way back out onto the field.
I was tired of it.
Tired of Valen being on my ass.
Tired of missing Luke’s perfect fucking throws because of it.
We were going to end this. And I was going to stop doing whatever the fuck I did to make my movements so damn obvious.
I’m faster than him. I know I am.
When I next heard the whistle, everything in my body slowed to a direct focus like I’d never felt before.
Pure flow.
Just energy.
Nothing in the world existed but that football.
And for the first time all night, I didn’t think about the only goddamn thing that I’d been able to think about for years.
Years and years of my life, with one thought hovering in every corner of my mind.
Going pro.
So what if it didn’t happen?
So what if I played the worst football of my life from here on out, losing games and seeing it all fall away?
I had more.
I had something so real, finally, for the first time in my life, with Gray.
Remember when that’s how football felt, too? How it really was just a game?
A game I loved so much?
Something that made me feel purely good?
The tension that had been in my body all night suddenly relaxed into that fluid state for Luke’s next pass.
I wasn’t rigid.
Because I’d fucking let myself breathe for the first time in so long.
When I took off for the pass, Valen followed, like usual.
But this time I knew how to be sneakier. He expected me to do what I’d been doing all night, juking like a motherfucker.
Instead, I just stayed the course.
I ran right from where I began, straight out.
As fast as I fucking could.
I could tell that Valen was looking for me to move. To surprise him at the last second like I’d been trying to do all game.