Page 100 of The Purest Fake
She’s confident enough for both of us. I know I need to get through this game without any issues and then I’ll feel much better going forward.
The roar of the crowd washes over me as I jog out on the field with my teammates. I run through all of the stretches that are a part of my usual warm-up routine.
Rogan has me run some routes and catch his passes, and that helps me to feel more comfortable. My shoulder feels good, and my hands are sure as they pluck the ball out of the air.
The game’s about to start when I seek Scarlett out in the stands. She’s wearing my number, an unexpected and welcome surprise. She notices my attention and smiles, blowing me a kiss.
We receive the ball to start the game. Our punt returner runs it back to the thirty yard line, giving us decent field position. With the first few hits or tackles I take, I say a little prayer it won’t mean a setback for me. I know I’m playing a bit tentatively, but as the first quarter progresses without incident, I start to relax into the flow of the game, making a few routine catches and gaining some solid yardage.
The crisp, autumn air fills my nostrils as I inhale deeply, feeling the chill of the season on my skin. The sharp scent of freshly cut grass mixes with the musty odor of sweat and dirt.
“That’s it Coop,” Rogan says, encouraging me.
There is no pain or weakness to speak of in my shoulder, so it’s time to trust my body and my abilities. With each play, my confidence grows and I put all my focus into doing my job. I really find my rhythm early in the second half, and by the final quarter I’m on point.
Rogan fires a quick pass my way, and I snatch it out of the air, turning up field. I brace for impact as a defender closes in. Thehit comes hard but I hold on to the ball as I’m driven to the turf. A jolt of pain shoots through my shoulder but it quickly fades. I pop to my feet, pumping my fist as the crowd cheers, and jog back to the huddle.
“Nice catch, Coop,” Rogan says. “You good?”
I nod. “All set and ready to roll.”
The next play, I run a deep route down the sideline. Rogan launches a perfect spiral my way. I track it through the air, my legs churning as I cross into the end zone. At the last second, I leap, extending my arms fully. The ball lands softly in my hands as I crash to the turf, maintaining possession. The crowd erupts as I get to my feet, holding the ball high.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Griffin yells, slapping me on the helmet.
“You’re back, baby,” Thor shouts, thumping his palm between my shoulder blades.
The adrenaline rush from scoring the touchdown carries me through the rest of the game. We end up winning by a comfortable margin, and as the final whistle blows, I feel a weight lift off my shoulders. I made it through without reinjuring myself and even managed to make some big plays.
As we jog off the field, I scan the stands, looking for Scarlett. I spot her beaming down at me, clapping enthusiastically. She mouths,“You did it,”and gives me a thumbs up. Her excitement is contagious, and I can’t keep the grin off my face. I blow her a kiss and head to the locker room.
After showering and changing, I check my phone to find a text.
Scarlett: You were amazing out there! Can’t wait to celebrate with you later. Wink. Wink.
My heart rate picks up again but for an entirely different reason now. I quickly type out a reply.
Can’t wait. Meet you at my place in an hour.
Her response comes almost immediately.
I’ll be there with champagne. You deserve it, boytoy.
I grin, pocketing my phone as I head out to face the media. The interviews fly by in a blur of questions about how my shoulder is feeling, but my mind is already on Scarlett and our upcoming celebration. As soon as I’m done, I rush to my car, eager to get home.
When I pull into my driveway, I see Scarlett’s car already parked there. My pulse quickens as I hurry inside. I find her in the kitchen, popping the cork on a bottle of champagne.
She turns at the sound of my entrance, her face lighting up. “There’s my football hero.”
Crossing the kitchen in a few long strides, I sweep her into my arms, lifting her off her feet. She laughs, wrapping her arms around my neck as I spin her around.
I set her down and hold her close as gratitude assails me, filling my chest to the edge of overflowing. Right now, there isn’t a single thing I would change—not even my shoulder injury—because it’s all led me to this moment.
“I’m so proud of you,” she says, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement. “You were incredible out there.”
“Thanks.” I’m unable to keep the grin off my face. “It felt amazing to be back.”
She reaches up, cupping my cheeks between her soft palms. “I could tell. You looked so confident and strong.”
