“So . . . you and Hollywood, huh?” Knox asks as we watch Flynn warm up with his team before the game.
“Her name is Jane,” I grit out as I glance toward the gymnasium doors. She went with Archer and Brogan to load up on snacks for the game. Maybe I should have gone with her. I have this uneasy feeling that it was a terrible idea to bring her here.
Logan isn’t any closer to figuring out who’s behind the email, and this afternoon she got a text from a random text app number that said basically the same thing as the email had, No one wants you here, Cali bitch. She brushed it off, but I could tell she was freaked out. It seems like whoever was behind the message in her bedroom and the email is not only the same person, but also not giving up. I told her all this earlier, but she just shrugged and said that she promised Flynn she’d come to his game, and she wasn’t going back on her word unless I thought whoever sent those messages was a Valley high schooler.
I don’t. Which was exactly her point. Still. The need to keep her safe is stronger than ever.
“I know.” He grins. “But you get this murderous glint in your eyes every time I call her Hollywood.”
I aim that glint right at him. Not that he’s scared of me. Knox isn’t scared of anything, unfortunately. Least of all me.
“I don’t know why you’re all grumpy about it. She’s hot. Own it.”
“Knox,” I warn, sitting straighter next to him.
He raises a fist over his mouth as he chuckles. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”
I return my focus to Flynn so I don’t pummel Knox. “I can’t believe how good he is. Remember when we all used to play HORSE in the driveway? Flynn could barely get the ball to the rim, and he was so damn mad every time he lost.” Damn, that feels like forever ago. “How old was he then?”
He shakes his head, eyes straight ahead on the court. “Five, maybe. I don’t think that basketball hoop got a lot of use once Mom got sick.”
The mention of Mom feels like a gut punch. All these years later and it still feels as raw as if it happened yesterday.
“He’d destroy us all now,” Knox adds.
“Definitely.” I swallow down the lump in my throat.
Jane appears in full Valley High merch. She has on a red hat with the bobcat logo, and a matching shirt over her dress, and she’s carrying more snacks than one person could eat in a day. Archer and Brogan flank her on either side. Knox follows my shifting attention and smiles.
“For real though, Jane seems cool. Plus, she fits your whole L.A. life. Is she planning on moving back when she’s done with school?”
“I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it.”
“And what about you? Have you heard anything from your agent for next season?” He moves his feet from the bleacher in front of us to make room for the others.
“Not yet.”
“There’s still time.”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I think I might be done with all that.”
“There are a ton of options. You could go to the AFL for a while even.”
“I don’t know.” I rub my palms together. “Thinking that maybe it’s time to hang all that up and move back.”
He laughs, but when he realizes I’m serious, his smile drops. “Don’t give up now. You’ve worked too hard to walk away for some girl.”
I don’t have time to correct his assumption before Jane steps up in front of us. “Hey. I didn’t know what you liked, so I got a bunch of stuff.”
“More like two of everything they had,” Brogan mutters.
“Nice hat.” Knox juts his chin toward her.
She flushes slightly and holds out a bag of peanut butter M&Ms to me. “Or I’ve got Starburst, Twix, pretzels, popcorn, and a pickle.”
“These are great. Thanks.”
Knox barely holds in his laugh. He leans over and takes them from me. “Hendrick needs to watch his sugar intake. Big pro athlete and all.” He winks at her. “I, on the other hand, live on sweets. What else you got?”
I move over and she takes a seat between me and Knox. She places the food options out on the next bleacher down, and Archer and Brogan sit beside it in front of Knox.
Keeping the popcorn, she scoots closer to me. “I might have overdone it.”
I tap the brim of her cap, then grab a handful of the buttery popcorn. “Nah.”
“I couldn’t help myself. I missed out on all this.” She looks around the gym. Red banners dating back fifty years hang on the walls.
Coming back here always fills me with nostalgia. It’s not that I miss it or anything, but life was definitely simpler.
“Archer showed me your football trophies,” she says, placing the bag of popcorn between us.
I groan. “You’re kidding.”
“No. Your awards and plaques take up an entire case. You still hold the school record for most passing completions or passing yards or . . . something passing related. There’s even one of your signed footballs in there. I am thoroughly impressed.”
I shift uncomfortably.
“I bet all the girls were in love with you.”
Knox sits forward and butts in. “Oh, they were. He had quite the lineup junior and senior year. He was Prom King, too.”
I am going to kill him later.
“Really?” Jane’s eyes light up.
“Flynn says there’s still some graffiti on the football bleachers declaring you the hottest guy to ever graduate Valley High.”
Heat climbs up my neck.
“Oh my gosh.” Her grin is so wide.
Thankfully the buzzer sounds, and our attention is dragged back to the court as Flynn and his team huddle up on the sideline.
The same guy that was running the scoreboard and announcing the starting lineup when I was in high school starts to call the opposing team. Then it’s time for the Valley players. Flynn sits on the bench with the other starters. The expression on his face is determined and calm. Only his bouncing leg gives away his nerves. He’s the only sophomore on the varsity team, but I can see the respect his teammates have for him.
The lights dim and a spotlight bounces around the court. Music starts up and the announcer lowers his voice as he says, “And now, your Valley High starting lineup.”
Jane’s jaw drops and she looks over at me with such raw excitement that I forget I’ve seen this whole pre-game intro a million times before. Like everything else, it’s basically identical from when I was here.
The cheerleaders line up with their red and white pom-poms. Someone dressed in the old bobcat mascot costume circles the gym with their arms raised. The crowd stands.
The announcer waits until the crowd is properly antsy before he begins. “A six-foot sophomore, number eighteen, Flyyyyyynn Holland.”
My little brother stands and runs out to half-court. Jane screams so loudly that people around us all turn to stare at her. Flynn’s cheeks turn red, but he can’t hide the grin stretching across his face.
The other four players are announced in the same fashion. Jane cheers for all of them, but none as loud as Flynn. I bet he freaking loves that.
When the lights come back up, the team takes off their warmup jackets and tosses them into a pile at the end of the bench. Flynn steps back onto the court with the number eighteen proudly stretched across his chest. Our mom’s birthday. January eighteenth. It’s the number I wore too.
The rest of the crowd sits, but not Jane. She bounces on her toes, yelling proudly for Flynn. Knox shoots me an amused look as he tosses more M&Ms into his mouth.
She finally sits after tip-off, but she’s on the edge of her seat, following the action so closely I have a hard time not watching her instead of the game. But as soon as Flynn scores, she’s back on her feet. He scores often after that.
The popcorn she’s holding is strewn around us from her jumping up and down, and people nearby are starting to get into it too. I think they’re all cheering extra hard for Flynn just to see her reaction. A few people have recognized her, mostly students that I’m sure heard my brother bragging about her, but except for posing for a few selfies, they’ve left her alone.
By halftime, Flynn has over twenty points, Jane has made friends with all the people sitting around us, my brothers are even more enamored with her, and fuck, I am too.
She convinces me to take her outside and show her the football field. Not a lot I wouldn’t say yes to right now where she’s concerned. I gave in last night and now I can’t seem to bring myself to fight it. I want her. My fascination with her isn’t distracting, it makes me the best person for the job. Or at least I hope that’s true.
“Did you play basketball in high school too?” she asks me as we walk down the sidewalk away from the gym toward the field behind the school.
“When I was younger, I did, but I focused on football in high school.”
“I saw a picture of you in your uniform. You were cute.” She slips her hand around my bicep. “I would have had a huge crush on you even then. Though apparently, I would have had to get in line.”
“They’re exaggerating. That is definitely not how I remember it.”
“And now?”
“Now what?” I open the side gate that leads to the field and let her go ahead of me.
“Do I need to get in line?”
I can’t stop the laugh that breaks free.
“I’m serious,” she says. “You’re a young, hot, professional football player. There’s no way girls aren’t throwing themselves at you.”
“Was a professional football player,” I clarify. “I haven’t really had time to date that much. My schedule during the season is pretty hectic, and during the offseason I take whatever work Logan can get me.”
“So . . . no girlfriends back in L.A.?”
“I dated a little when I first moved to California, but nothing serious.”
“What about repeat hookups?” She arches one brow as she waits for my answer.
“A few of those,” I admit.
She smiles like it doesn’t bother her in the least. Fuck, maybe she’s got her own list of guys she keeps on standby, like Cam. That thought doesn’t sit well, but she steps onto the field and our conversation dies.
Jane turns in a circle, arms held out wide, head thrown back, and somehow smiling even bigger. The wind blows her hair around and damn near takes the hat off her head. She places one hand on her head but doesn’t make any move to capture the wild strands. She’s so carefree despite the heavy things going on in her life. It might be my favorite thing about her.
I step up in front of her and wrap my arms around her waist. She tilts her head up and meets my gaze with the same wondrous expression she’s worn all night.
“There’s no line,” I say. “Not anymore.”
The smile on her face widens as she brings her arms up around my neck. “Good. Because I would fight them all.”
I turn the hat on her head around backward to get it out of my way, then drop my mouth to hers. Her body presses into mine automatically, sending a surge of heat through me. She’s tall and lean, but her curves mold against me like she was made for me.
All day we’ve gotten by with little touches and a few short kisses, but now that I have her alone, I want to watch her come again with my name on her lips.
“Ever make out on a high school football field?” I ask her right before I scoop her up into my arms.
She squeals into my mouth but doesn’t stop kissing me to answer. Her hold on me tightens as I lower us both to the ground.
She straddles me, resting her weight on my hard dick. “No, but I once made out with a guy in a sky box at a baseball game.”
I growl my disapproval at her making out with anyone but me, which makes her giggle, and I pull her bottom lip between my teeth. She arches into me, letting her head tip back. I take full advantage of the position, and trail open-mouthed kisses along the column of her delicate neck.
She rolls her hips over me and moans as I suck a sensitive spot along her collarbone.
“I hate the thought of anyone else touching you,” I admit. I slide one hand between us, under her dress. Her panties are already damp when I cup her pussy.
She grinds into my palm. My thumb strokes lazy circles over her clit. I stop kissing her only so I can meet her stare. Lips puffy and those green eyes sparkling. She’s fucking gorgeous with the flush of pleasure on her cheeks.
The buzzer in the gymnasium sounds in the distance.
“Second half is about to start,” I say as I slip one finger under her panties.
The only acknowledgment is the increased pace as she rubs herself on my hand.
She’s close when she drops her forehead against mine and says, “I really missed out. High school is the best.”
I don’t have a single high school memory that’s as good as this one, but I’ll relive them all if they end with my fingers buried in her sweet pussy.
I slant my mouth over hers and increase the pressure as she comes apart on top of me. She rides my hand until every last bit of the orgasm is wrung out of her, then she melts into my chest.
We hurry back to the gym and take our seats about halfway through the third period.
“Where’ve you two been?” Archer asks with a knowing smirk.
“Hendrick was showing me the football field.” Jane smooths her windblown hair and adjusts the hat so it’s facing forward again.
“I bet he was,” Brogan mutters.
Knox kicks him. “I’m glad you’re back. Flynn keeps looking over here, and it’s not to see our ugly mugs.”
“You’re not ugly,” she says matter-of-factly, staring ahead at the game. “None of you are. Actually, you’re all really hot.”
He smirks around her at me.
“But Hendrick is the hottest,” she quickly clarifies.
His smirk falls. And I flip him off behind her back.
