#Hater (Hashtag #2) (12 page)

When he pulled back, I said, “By the way, you’re totally kicking ass out there.”

He chuckled and put me back on the railing and kept one hand on my butt as I climbed back over. Back in the stands, I gripped the cold metal and gave him a small wave.

He’d been walking backward toward his team, but then he changed direction and sprinted toward me. In one graceful leap, he was up on the wall and leaning over the railing.

“Love you,” he half-growled and pressed a swift kiss to my lips. “Next touchdown’s for you.”

Behind us, the coach was calling his name, the game resumed.

He hopped down and ran over to the coach, who hit him in the back of the head with his clipboard.

Beside me, Ivy sighed. “I want to be a nerd.”

I elbowed her and we both laughed.

The rest of the game went by without any more attempts at removing Romeo from the game. His teammates seemed to rally around him to shut out anyone who even got close.

In the end, Romeo threw another touchdown. The one he said was for me.

And when the clock wound down, the Wolves became college football champions.

Alpha U was getting a new trophy.

Romeo

“That was some shady shit out there, Rome,” Braeden said once the total chaos of winning the game had gone down to a considerable roar.

We were finally in the locker room, and I was stripping off my sweat and grass-stained gear.

“Total douche move.” I agreed.

It wasn’t the first time a team had tried to take me out of a game. It was pretty much common practice, especially when something like a title and championship was at stake. Still, I’d never quite had anyone come at me like that before.

The play was already in progress. Sacking me wouldn’t have changed the touchdown I’d just thrown. Except of course to keep me from throwing another one.

That guy deliberately came in like a freight train and plowed me down. I lay there stunned for long moments, waiting for the air to come back in my lungs and for my body to process the shock of the hit.

Thankfully, he wasn’t that good at tackling and it did nothing more than stun me.

And it got him thrown out of the game.

It really hadn’t been a big deal. Like I said, it happened a lot. But it was the first time it happened in front of Rimmel.

I couldn’t help but notice how the large screen on the field had zeroed in on the girl in number twenty-four’s hoodie, who was climbing over the railing and preparing to leap down onto the field.

The security guard was yelling at her, but she barely noticed him. Her eyes were trained out on the field, where I was.

It was almost laughable that her tiny ass was going to rush out onto a field full of men more than double her size to make sure I was okay.

Goddamn. I loved her even more just then.

When the guard put his hand on her ankle, trying to stop her from going back to her seat, something happened.

Something that never had in my entire life of playing football.

The game faded away.

For once, I was out on the field and unable to focus on only the game. It took a backseat to the girl teetering on the edge of the railing. I wasn’t going to let her get punished for worrying about me. Hell, she didn’t know she couldn’t just jump onto the field and run out here.

I grinned to myself. I was going to have to give her some rules.

“Dude,” Trent said and stopped in front of my locker. I glanced up. “Now every chick within a fifty-mile radius of this place is gonna expect all of us guys to pull some grand romantic crap on the field like you just did.”

I laughed. “Nah, man.” I disagreed. “No one was even watchin’.”

“Fuck,” Trent said. “How’d you even say that with a straight face?”

“It’s a gift.”

Braeden burst into the conversation, his hair sticking up all over the place and a towel slung around his waist. “We getting drunk to-night!” he hollered.

Everyone within in earshot gave a loud whoop.

Braeden gave me a sheepish smile. “So yeah, our exclusive party tonight?”

“What about it?” I asked.

“Well, I might have invited more than one date.”

Trent glanced at me. “Yeah, me too.”

I groaned. That meant our exclusive party was no longer exclusive. Not that I’d expected anything less.

We were the college champs after all.

And damn if I hadn’t played awesome.

“I’m hitting the shower,” Braeden said and slammed his locker shut.

“Hey,” I said and caught him by the shoulder.

He glanced around at me. “You wanna tell me why Rimmel called you before the game?”

Braeden spun. “Did you go through my phone?”

“Did you lie to me about my girl?” I countered.

He wiped a hand over his face. “Fucking A. Don’t put me in the middle, Rome.”

“You’re my best friend, asshole. There is no middle. It’s my side.”

“Hey now,” he said. “Sisters before misters and all that.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?” I drawled, amused.

“It means I’ve taken her on as my little sister. You’re her mister. I’m officially in neutral territory.”

“Are you actually telling me you’re picking her side?”

He muttered a few curses beneath his breath and sighed. “I’m on your side, Rome. Always. I’m doing this for you. Something’s up. That’s all I’m saying. And that girl loves you, so you better not fuck it up.”

“And how would I do that?”

“Just let her be the one to tell you whatever it is she has to say. Stay off your phone and shit ‘til you’re with her.”

I stared at him for long moments. He didn’t back down or cave in at all.

“All right, man. Thanks for the heads-up.”

The shouts and laughter of victory didn’t let up while everyone showered and changed, but I barely heard them. I knew I wasn’t going to like whatever she had to call Braeden for. I tried not to be upset she called him and not me, but the truth was it pissed me off.

At least I knew she wasn’t hurt. I’d just seen her on the field. Physically, she was fine.

It seemed like knowing that only made it easier to be mad. I was glad she felt like Braeden was someone she could count on, but I wanted her to come to me. Always.

Getting out of the locker room wasn’t a quick thing. There was too much celebrating to do. Part of me itched to find Rimmel, but the other part of me wanted to enjoy this win. We’d worked so damn hard for the trophy we were all drinking beer out of, so I told myself to scratch that itch later.

After the pre-party in the locker room, I gave a couple interviews. The reporters were all waiting outside the lockers in the tunnel that led to the field. They had cameras, pens, and badges clipped to their coats.

I did my thing and turned up the charm. I talked about the game, the team, and I smiled. Hell, half the questions were about the girl I’d stopped the game for. I never realized it would be made such a big deal. I’d only been reacting to the situation, doing what felt natural.

When the coach came out of the locker room, the reporters turned to him, and me and the other team members that were being interviewed were able to escape.

I was still pumped up from the game and our win, but the adrenaline was starting to fade and a little bit of exhaustion was sinking in.

We were heading out toward the parking lot when I turned the corner and a familiar figure snagged my attention.

Rimmel was leaning against the wall with her hands buried in the front pocket of my hoodie.

Braeden, who’d been beside me since we stepped out of the locker room, slapped me on the back. “I’ll see ya at the party.”

I nodded.

He jogged ahead and Rimmel pushed off the wall and grinned at him. She held up her hand for a high-five and said, “Congratulations!”

Braeden pushed her hand away and crouched low to pick her up and spin her around in a circle. She laughed.

“Thanks, tutor girl.” He set her on her feet and then was gone.

Rimmel looked over at me and grinned. I recognized the look on her face, so when she came rushing at me, I was ready and held out my arms. She leapt up into them and wrapped her legs around my waist. Her arms went around my neck and she smiled wide. “I’m so proud of you!”

I gave her a loud, sloppy kiss.

She squealed and then pulled back. “So how’s it feel to be the champion, Mr. MVP?”

“Pretty damn good.”

She leaned forward and kissed me. It wasn’t a sloppy kiss; it was a real one. And it tightened my gut and made me think about skipping the party tonight and just spending it in bed with her.

Behind us, someone cleared his throat.

Rimmel jerked away like she was in trouble, and I tightened my hold on her and lazily turned around so her back was to whoever was there and I was facing him.

He was wearing a National Football League coat over his jeans and boots.

My heart rate jacked up, making my chest feel like it was in danger of exploding. I set Rimmel carefully down beside me and stepped forward. “I’m Roman Anderson. It’s nice to meet you.”

The man stepped forward and offered his hand, which I shook. “I know who you are, Mr. Anderson.”

“I hope you enjoyed tonight’s game,” I said.

“You played very well,” he said.

“Thank you.” Suddenly, the charm I usually wore like designer clothes failed me. I felt like I was standing before a judge and jury, and my entire future hung in the balance of the impression I made right here, right now.

“I would have to disagree,” Rimmel said, stepping up beside me.

Both of us turned to her. I gave her a wary look, hoping she understood who this was. She ignored me.

Brat.

“You disagree?” the scout said, focusing solely on her.

“Romeo didn’t play well. He was awesome.” She punctuated her statement by pushing her glasses up on her nose.

The scout chuckled. I let out the breath I’d been holding.

“And who might you be?”

Her eyes widened when she realized she’d called all the attention onto herself, and her cheeks reddened. But she stepped forward and offered her small gloved hand. “Rimmel. I’m Romeo’s biggest fan.”

The scout shook her hand and tilted his head. “Aren’t you the one Mr. Anderson here interrupted the game for?”

Shit.
Of course he’d seen that.
Talk about unprofessional.

I stepped forward. “This is my girlfriend, sir. She’s new to the whole football world, and she hadn’t seen me take a hit like that before.”

“That was quite the hit.” He agreed, looking back at me. “Yet you got up.”

“Takes more than that to keep me down,” I replied.

His eyes appraised me. “I see that.”

He glanced between Rimmel and me. “Stunts like the one you pulled aren’t common.”

“I—” I started to speak, to tell him it wouldn’t happen again. I wanted to kick myself in the ass. But before I could say anything, he spoke over me.

“Stunts like that sell tickets.” He looked at Rimmel again, who smiled sweetly. “They pull in a whole new audience to the sport.”

I swallowed the excuse I was about to make. He liked it. He liked Rimmel. The charm that failed me earlier came back in one great rush. I grinned and looped an arm across Rimmel’s shoulders.

“Nothing like a captive audience.”

“Yes,” he said and then reached inside his jacket. “You still have a couple years left of college, don’t you?”

“Technically.” I hedged.

“What’s your major?”

“Business management,” I answered as he pulled out a small business card and held it at his side.

He smiled. “So you’re really just here for the ball.”

I relaxed. “The game is all that matters.”

“You’re young, but you’ve got talent.” He glanced at Rimmel. “You also have a lot of support.”

Rimmel nodded enthusiastically.

The scout chuckled.

Damn. My baby was charming the pants right off this guy.

He held out the card in his hand. “I’m Martin Winters of the NFL. That was some good…” Rimmel cleared her throat and he grinned. “Awesome,” he corrected, “playing out there. Congrats on your win. I’ll be in touch.”

I took the card and shook his hand. “I look forward to it.”

Rimmel and I stood quietly and watched him walk away. We remained still until he was completely out of sight.

When he was gone, I turned to her.

She opened her mouth in an O shape and jumped up and down.

I let out a whoop so loud it echoed around us. The exhaustion I felt just moments ago was completely erased by brand new adrenaline. I lifted Rimmel off her feet and spun her around until she begged me to stop.

We fell against the wall, and I covered her mouth with mine.

I kissed her hard and deep. Her fingers delved into my still damp hair and massaged at my scalp, making me growl low in my chest. When she started to move against me, I knew it was probably time to cool things off. We were still at the stadium.