felt to give back.
When I started my car, and the dash flared to life, I cursed. I hadn’t realized how late it was. I’d gotten along immediately with Miss Hinchey, and we’d chatted for quite a while, which wouldn’t have been a problem except now I would have to haul ass to make it to the stadium. I rushed to my apartment so I could change out of the business clothes I’d worn for the meeting and into my VVU fan gear.
As I hurried past Lucy in the living room, she fell to her knees.
I whirled around to face her. “Oh my God, are you—”
“Upon my knees,” she cried out. “What doth your speech import?”
Should have known. She’d been trying to make up for the rehearsals she’d missed while in New York.
Shaking my head, I continued to my room to get ready. I’d never been late to a game, and I sure as hell wasn’t about to start now. It was my first home game as a WAG, and I intended to enjoy it.
***
Carson
I SLIPPED MY earbuds in my ears for my normal pregame ritual. This game against West Virginia was a rare Thursday night game. I loved night games, probably because the fans loved them. Plus, there was something awesome about playing under the lights. Maybe it was nostalgia for high school when every player was probably the best in their high school, destined for something greater. For most guys on the team, their time playing at VVU was the end of the line. Only a select few would become professional athletes.
And by God, one of them would be me.
I was the first to admit that I was a slacker about everything but football. Except recently, I’d come to realize that perhaps my slacker ways extended to athletics as well. I wasn’t half as disciplined as Wyatt, and for the first time, I wondered what I could have been if I were. Maybe I relied too heavily on my size and natural talent. Those two things could only take me so far.
I forced myself to focus on the beat of the music. The last thing I needed was to psych myself out before a game. It wasn’t like me to be insecure. If anything, I was usually overconfident. Maybe that was the problem—I’d used up all my confidence.
Fuck.
Jake yanked out my right earbud. “Dude, calm the fuck down.”
“I’m calm.”
“Bullshit. What’s going on?”
I shrugged my jersey over my head. “Nothing. I’m cool.” I tucked my earbud back into my ear.
Jake pulled it back out. “Seriously, man. Are you okay?”
Scowling, I had to stop myself before I told him to fuck off. I rolled my shoulders. “Just nerves.”
He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Believe me, I understand. But you got this. I got this, and you got this. You feel me?”
“Yeah.” I moved to put my earbud back in then paused. “Thanks.”
Jake nodded then went back to getting ready.
A few games ago when I was talking him off the ledge, I never would have guessed our positions would be reversed. I didn’t know what had gotten into me. While the team as a whole hadn’t been playing the best, my stats were solid. But what if solid isn’t good enough?
Coach Coyle ambled in, like he was on the way to a pig pickin’ instead of coaching a nationally televised game. After our first pregame pep talk, he had given up on them altogether. Instead, he would come into the locker room and simply ask, “Y’all ready?”
When he did that this time, I didn’t join in the chorus of hell yeahs that the other guys called out. But it didn’t matter because it was game time. I shoved my earbuds into my locker and lined up next to Wyatt so I could carry one of the flags on the run out of the tunnel. All business, he jerked his chin up at me. The guy was a fucking machine. I’d never seen him rattled, not even when the offensive line was falling apart around him. I didn’t get it because he had so much on the line.
I tended to live my life like I had nothing left to lose, which was why not much bothered me. But for the first time, I felt like I did have a lot to lose, and it scared the hell out of me.
CHAPTER 18
Becca
I GRIPPED RACHEL’S arm and leaned in so that no one could hear me. “Did I do something to piss off Ashley?