Page 114 of Keep Me
“Yeah, next time you’re at mine and I can take that godforsaken jersey off you.”
I reached out, wanting to take her hand, but she backed away, and I couldn’t deny that it hurt my ego, but I didn’t show it.
“Matty.”
“Britt.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“This!” She gestured between us. “I can’t go back to being friendly and making jokes with you.”
“Why not? You said you wanted that?”
“I do, but I’m just waiting for you to…” Her eyes skimmed the field. I knew what she wanted. I also knew she wouldn’t be able to articulate it. Britt was the kind of girl who needed to be wooed. She deserved more than the half-assed proposal in front of the Eiffle Tower and the Vegas wedding she got. She deserved a man who wanted to get on their knees and pleasure her every single night.
I would be that; I just hadn’t proved it yet.
“I know what you’re waiting for,” I said as I stepped closer to her. She crossed her arms but didn’t back away. Good. “Watch me closely tonight because everything I do is for you. You’re the only person in the crowd I care to impress.”
Take it slow.
I didn’t listen to the warning my brain gave me, and I pulled her in for a short, demanding kiss.
“Mathieson! Get your ass over here now!” Coach called, forcing me to pull away from her. Her eyes wide and she was breathing slowly.
“I’ll let you off wearing the wrong jersey tonight, but I’m starting to think you don’t likeourlast name.” Her eyes widened. “Have you changed it yet? You promised my dad that’s what you were going to do, after all.”
“Mathieson, if you’re not over here in two seconds, I’m taking you off the roster.” Coach wasn’t playing around, and if I wanted tonight to work, I needed to be on the field.
“I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you later, Wifey.”
I left her with a wink and jogged over to the rest of my team.
Coach whacked me upside the head. “What the hell do you think your doing? Kissing girls on the field. You need to be focusing on kicking balls, son.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, putting my helmet on. I didn’t care he was angry. I only cared about one thing tonight, and that was scoring a fucking goal.
“You can do this.” Jackson hit our helmets together. I nodded at him. The final kick of the game. The most important 30 yards of my life.
With my mouthguard in, I took one final look at Britt before jogging onto the field with the rest of the special team. She was watching me closely; I could feel it. Good. It was what I wanted.
With the crowd cheering, the atmosphere in the stadium was electric.
The final kick.
Ten seconds left.
The game had come down to this.
One kick at the twentieth yard line. One of the easiest kicks I could do, and I’d done countless times before. My only problem tonight, I was more distracted than ever.
Britt was watching me from the bench, her microphone between her knees. Nothing could disguise the tremble in her leg. She was nervous for me and her expectations felt like a heavy weight. One I was prepared to carry. Taking a deep breath, I cricked my neck and tested the sponginess of the turf as the rest of the team set up my shot.
When our eyes connected for a brief second, I pointed to her, then to the post. If she didn’t get the reference that this kick was for her, then we had no hope. The team formed their line, and I pushed all my feelings aside. They didn’t matter at that moment. What mattered were the nuts and bolts of the kick. Getting mysystem right was the only way I would ever win this game and my girl.
Snap. Hold.
