I mouth the words,Good luck.
A slow smile spreads on his beautiful mouth as he winks at me.
At least, I think he directs it at me even though the screamer behind me shouts some very graphic remarks about what she’d like to do to Rider after the game and how she’d love to have his baby too.
Tank slaps him on the back, waves to us, and pulls him away.
“Holy shit,” Sienna whispers. “I almost got pregnant just now. Please tell me y’all are gonna make up after this. No smudge stick in the world will cleanse your karma if we don’t get some positive resolution.” She elbows me again. “Preferably naked, am I right?”
“We’ll see. I don’t want to make any hasty decisions fueled by this circus show.”
Her fingers snap in my face. “If you don’t at least talk to him after all of this, I’m never going to forgive you.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Okay, Miss Bossypants.”
I’ll admit it’s hard to stay mad at him.
Bree nudges me from my other side. “Make him work for it.”
I’m huddled with my friends when I see Miranda and Zoe standing a few rows away, glaring at me. Miranda’s carrying a sign that says, “Rider, go deep!” with a pic of Jennifer Lawrence inTheHunger Gameswhen she holds up her hand as tribute. She and Zoe are wearing shirts that say “I’ve Ridden a Bronco.”
I roll my eyes heavenward.
Although a minuscule piece of me admits that shirt is cute.
I think back to his messages. If what Rider says is true, Miranda doesn’t pose a threat. And I owe it to both of us to hear him out and let him explain why he was hanging out with her.
By the time the game starts, I’m too focused on the field to care about her.
The game’s intense. So intense, I barely breathe the first half. The Longhorns quickly pull ahead, but then Rider throws two touchdowns and we go into halftime tied.
I lose my voice sometime in the third quarter, and by the fourth, I’ve gnawed off all of my nails.
When we go into the last five minutes of play tied, again, I’m so choked up, I can barely breathe.
That’s when I finally admit the truth: I have it bad for Rider.
72
RIDER
I’m tempted.
For the first time since I spotted Gabby and Sienna in my seats, I let my eyes wander over to where she’s standing with her hands folded under her chin.
If anyone were to ask me why I want to win the game, my automatic response would be for the team. For the coach who’s always stood by me. For my roommates who have my back.
But the reason Ineedto win is huddled in the stands, shivering her cute little ass off, and my daughter, who’s probably asleep in her great-grandmama’s arms in that giant house Adele calls “a cottage.”
“You okay there, Captain?” Tank asks as he steps into the huddle.
“It’s all good.”
You know, just gotta win the game, clinch a playoff berth, and get the girl back.
And nothing I’ve planned to get the girl back works if we don’t win. I’m not an idiot—just because Sienna twisted Gabby’s arm to get here doesn’t mean she’s forgiven me. I know I have my work cut out for me today.
But first things first—we’re tied at forty with three minutes on the clock.
