believe him as badly as I wanted another touch.
This was a mess. I’d just made everything more complicated…and bloodier.
One selfish moment was enough to ruin a friendship. What would happen if I admitted my feelings?
How many lives could I destroy with the truth?
11
Jude
The team listed me as questionable for the game—because of the broken nose.
I’d survive, but Rory nearly died of embarrassment. At least I’d be there to kiss her awake if she went down. Then again, if she went down on me, I’d be the one dying and going to heaven.
If she gave me the chance.
If she’d ever talk to me again.
If she wouldn’t hide from me at the field, in the house, and in the locker room.
I shouldn’t have been thinking about Rory, not while suiting up for an important game so early in the season. My pads were on. Jersey stretched over my chest. I bundled my hair in a ponytail and swiped the black under my eyes. At this point in my career, the only way I’d stay in step with the younger guys was if I focused entirely on the game.
But, fuck, the locker room made it hard to concentrate.
Too much noise. Hooting. Cheering. Yelling. Lockers slammed. Equipment thudded. Water ran. Life buzzed into a grating hum, and it set me on edge.
This wasn’t me. I never used to hate this part. I lived for the high-stakes atmosphere. I loved the sweat and the hits and playing under the lights. Night games were intense. We played late tonight, 8:30, a nationally televised game against the Atwood Monarchs.
It’d be the first time I faced Eric since the disaster dinner with Rory’s family.
What might have been a chance for a little friendly competition became another source of stress. It throbbed my headache even more, blitzing me like the noise of the locker room. My blood pressure rose without stepping onto the field. I tried to find a quiet place to think before kickoff.
That was impossible.
My headache got worse.
“J-u-u-u-de.” Lachlan howled. He encouraged the guys to mimic the cry. Somehow, Lachlan even had the fans doing it, chanting for me every time I touched the ball. “You feeling good, All-Star?”
No, but that was normal for me anymore. “You know it.”
“Got you listed as questionable,” he laughed. “Couldn’t believe it until I saw the shiners myself.”
The black eyes came with the broken nose. Not terrible, but enough that Rory couldn’t look at me without her mood flinging past humiliated and crashing into the weepies.
Which she adamantly denied, of course.
“I’m fine,” I said. “I don’t need my nose to run the ball.”
Jack slapped my shoulder pads. “Still not gonna tell us how it happened?”
“I already explained it.”
“Run it past me once more.”
I wasn’t in the mood. “Rory bumped me while we were cleaning…vacuuming.”
Cole snickered. Jack raised his eyebrows.
“Yeah,” Lachlan said. “You fell headfirst into some kind of carpet.”
DeSean and the linemen overheard. “You’d think the honeybuns would break the fall.”
Jack laughed. “Oh, she gave the man a thorough physical after that one.”
“And a sponge bath for good measure.” I dropped the smile. Took too much energy to fake it.
What the hell was wrong with me?
Maybe I needed to hit something. Get on the field and smack into a defensive lineman or linebacker. Once I stepped on the grass, I’d calm down.
I had to.
My heart thudded too hard, and the noise in the locker room pierced into a single note of pure aggravation. I hated this. My temper never got the best of me.
Except for now.
“Jude?”
Her voice was a tinkle of bells in a locker room of braying jackasses.
Rory had joined the team during the games, remaining on the sidelines with the other medical staff. She donned the same polo shirt as the trainers, but she was going to need a bigger size if she wanted to hide the bump.
“Jude.” Rory beckoned me over with a quick wave. “Come here!”
Lachlan laughed as he tied his shoes. “Careful she doesn’t snap a finger this time.”
I responded with a perfectly in-tact digit.
I didn’t like how quickly Rory ran, or how her expression twisted. The tunnel wasn’t a good place for a conversation, not when the stadium shook with seventy thousand screaming fans waiting to cheer on their Ironfield Rivets.
She stared at me, and my mood improved. Maybe she couldn’t look me in the eyes, but Rory’s lips parted as she surveyed the uniform.
She liked what she saw.
And, if she said the word, she might have had all of it.
“Are you okay?” I asked,