Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
The crowd roars, so I glance over to see that our kicker, Hank Martin, just got us the extra point. “Hell yeah!” I cheer.
“Go sit, and I’ll grab you a drink,” Rowan tells me.
“That’s not your job.”
She shrugs. “For you, it is.” She turns on her heel and heads for the water table, and I watch her go.
“You’ve got it bad, huh?” Foster asks me.
“You could say that.” I nod. There’s no use in hiding it. Besides, Foster is one of my best friends.
“Hold on to her,” he says. “No matter what happens, if she’s settled here.” He places his hand over his heart. “No matter what happens, hold on to her.” With that, he walks away. I watch as he goes to stand at the very end of the line of Rampage staff and players, keeping his eyes on the field.
Foster lost someone. Not just “someone.” If I had to guess, it was his someone. One of these days, he’ll tell us about her. In the meantime, I plan on taking his advice.
I’m going to hold on to her.
Chapter Fourteen
Rowan
I can’t stop smiling. My face actually hurts. Landry and the Rampage played an incredible game. It was preseason, so he didn’t get to play as he usually would in a regular season game, but he did score two touchdowns, and both of them he celebrated on the sidelines with me, using the silly handshake.
All eyes were on us, and they even put us up on the jumbotron. Having all of that attention on me would usually bother me, but Landry’s infectious celebratory attitude had me not caring. That’s a feat in and of itself.
“Rowan,” a deep voice says.
I stop and take a deep breath, not wanting to deal with Chaz. Turning, I smile at him. “What can I do for you, Mr. Brown?”
“So, that’s how it’s going to be? You’re spreading your legs for another player, and I’m suddenly a stranger to you?” He takes a step closer.
I take a step back. “Is there something you need, Mr. Brown?” My question only proves to make him angrier.
“Fuck you, Rowan. You’re going to end things with him. Today.”
“Rowan, I need you.” Reid pushes into the room, right past Chaz, and hops up on my table. “I hurt,” he says dramatically.
“Fuck off, Montgomery. We were talking.”
“But I need her,” Reid says. He flashes me a wink, and I bite down on my cheek to keep from laughing.
Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would ever find myself in a situation where I felt comfortable enough to laugh at Chaz and his angry stare. “What’s going on?” I ask, keeping my face neutral.
“I have this pain right here.” He leans over and points at his ass cheek. I can’t help it. I snicker, which only proves to piss Chaz off even further.
“Get the fuck out of here,” he seethes.
“No can do, Chazzy boy. You see, Rowan is my girl, and I don’t like the tone of your voice.”
“Oh, so you’re fucking this one too?” Chaz spits, his hands fisted at his sides.
“No, not me. That’s all Reynolds. Rowie and I are besties,” Reid tells him.
“Rowie?” Chaz scoffs and rolls his eyes.
“Yeah, Rowie and Reid. We’re like this.” Reid holds up his hand and crosses his index and middle finger. “Like peanut butter and jelly, we are,” he says.
How he’s maintaining a straight face is beyond me.
“There you are,” Brian Stout, the defensive coordinator, sticks his head in the room. “Are you injured?” he asks Chaz.
“No,” he grinds out.
“Then get out here. We have some things to go over.”
Chaz gives him a curt nod, then turns back to me and Reid. “This isn’t over.”
“Later, Chazzy boy.” Reid waves.
As soon as he’s out of the room, I lean my weight against the table, relief washing over me.
“Are you okay?” Reid asks. All the playfulness is now gone.
“I’m good. Thank you for that.”
“What did he want?”
“For me to end things with Landry.”
Reid nods. “You know you can’t do that, right? You’ll break his heart.”
“We’re pretending,” I remind him.
“Are you, though?” he asks as the door opens, and Landry comes strolling in.
His hair is still wet from his shower, and his shirt clings to him. It looks as if he barely took the time to towel off. “What’s wrong? Was that asshat in here bothering you?”
“Nothing is wrong,” I say gently. “Yes, Mr. Brown was in here, but so was Reid.”
“Thanks, man,” Landry says, running his fingers through his still-wet hair. “Are you finished up here?”
“I think so. No injuries and no one has come to me for therapy. Let me check in with John, but I’m pretty sure I’m done for the day.”
“Good. Let’s get you clocked out, and we can head to my place.”
“Your place?”
“Yeah. Today was an early game, so everyone’s coming over. I’ll either order food or grill something. We’ll chill, talk about today’s game, and watch some of the others on television.”