The Rivalry

“No, no, no!” Kayla cried.

There wasn’t a soul around Barclay when he sailed into the end zone. Our bench erupted in celebration. I was swept up in it, high-fiving my guys, and watching the coaches congratulate each other. The band played, and the stadium sang along while special teams hurried onto the field.

I slapped a hand on the back of Barclay’s helmet when he came to the sideline. “Fuck yeah, man.”

I could only see the whites of his eyes under the helmet, but he was grinning like a fool. Couldn’t blame him. Scoring was a motherfucking rush, and being defense, Barclay rarely got the opportunity. Just made it all the sweeter that it was against Ohio State.

The extra point kick was good, and now we were up by fourteen. Energy pumped through my system and I felt high. Ready to take on Crawford again, and this time, beat him.

Yet, something was . . . off.

There was a weird tingle at the base of my spine. I sobered as I realized what it was, and turned over my shoulder to look at her. My mouth went dry.

I’d seen her upset before. The night I’d surprised her at the Buckeye Bar, her expression had twisted with hurt at her mother’s reaction. And I’d seen Kayla stare at me with annoyance. With excitement teeming in her eyes. And, my favorite—lust. She was insanely sexy like that.

But I’d never seen her look at me with such cold eyes and a hard expression etched on her face.

She glared at me, not as a boyfriend who’d pissed her off, but as an adversary.

As an enemy.

-39-

KAYLA

We didn’t score in the second quarter either, but at least our defense stopped Michigan, so something was working. Hopefully Coach Vaughn and the rest of the staff would give the team a good talking to, and the offense would get their asses in the game. We’d had one good drive until the fumble, and it’d been downhill after that.

When there was less than a minute left in the half, the Ohio State marching band assembled behind the end zone. I wandered through the members like a labyrinth, chasing after the silver bells of the sousaphones until I found Chuck.

“It’s almost time,” I said. “Nervous?”

Chuck shook his head, but he looked pale and clammy, and stage fright was hitting him full-force. Dotting the ‘I’ was something he’d been looking forward to his entire marching band career, but his gaze swung around frantically now, as if searching for someone to pass the responsibility on to. If I asked, it was likely he’d slap that enormous tuba on me and shove me out there in his place.

“You don’t look nervous,” I lied. “Which is good. I figure you won’t mind this.”

“What?” he asked.

I darted past a few trumpets and grabbed Beth’s arm, interrupting her conversation with someone else. She lifted her eyebrows in surprise.

“I’m Kayla. Can I borrow you for a sec? I need your help.”

Beth seemed too confused to say anything and let me drag her toward Chuck. When he saw we were coming, his mouth hung open. He looked like he wanted to run, but was rooted to his spot on the turf.

“Beth, this is Chuck.”

Her unsure gaze went from me to him. “Hi. I know who you are.”

“What are you doing?” Chuck hissed at me.

“Acting like a middle-schooler, apparently,” I fired back. Chuck’s opportunities to make a move were dwindling to nothing. After today, there’d only be a bowl game performance, or hopefully two, and I didn’t want my best friend to be filled with regret. I focused back on the bewildered Beth. “He’s nervous about dotting the ‘I’ and I thought you could help.”

“Me?” she asked.

I nodded. “Yup.”

When I didn’t elaborate, she glanced at Chuck, who was growing paler by the second, and she gave him a soft smile. “You did great at practice, so I’m sure you’ll do great now.” She bit down on her bottom lip for a moment. “Stay positive.”

His eyes went as wide and round as his sousaphone bell. It was the sign he’d been waiting for.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Beth blinked. “What?”

“He’s talking to me,” I said, covering him. “I love you, too. He’s like my brother.”

He cleared his throat. “What I meant was I love . . .Ewan McGregor.”

Oh, Chuck. Beth looked at him like he was weirdo.

But he was undeterred. “He’s got that new movie coming out.” His confidence built as he spoke. “We should go see it.”

Just when it seemed she couldn’t look any more surprised, Beth did it. “Like . . . a date?”

“We marched pregame next to each other last year but I never got up the nerve to talk to you. So, if you reject me, you have the potential to do a lot of damage.” Chuck’s grin was charming. “Just FYI, no pressure.”