Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Kansas City was up by ten, and the Rush stadium had become a roar of noise as the Rush made a crucial first down in the final quarter. My parents and I had moved from the edges of our seats to standing right after the half, and my body was buzzing with tension like I was still out on the field. KC’s defense blitzed Garrett and took control of the ball again. The Rush’s defense was playing hardball, too, though, and got control again with twenty seconds left on the clock.
I kept an eagle eye on Cullen as they lined up. Ramsey called the play, and the field exploded, Cullen taking off down the far left side. Ramsey feinted and faked, then sent the ball hurtling toward Cullen. It was a perfect pass, but he had an army in front of him, and I was pretty sure I didn’t breathe as he cut left and right, trying to make his way through. He launched himself into the end zone just as one of KC’s guys barreled into his shoulder, and I squeezed my fists together, waiting until he rolled onto his back and held up the ball with a triumphant grin. The fans catcalled and whooped as he was helped up, and the field goal went off without a hitch. It wasn’t enough to win the game, but it was a respectable loss against another really good team.
Cullen slowed as he trotted toward the sidelines and sent his gaze over the crowd until he found me and gave me an upnod that had me grinning like a crazed fool.
“You really like him.” My mom lifted her voice to be heard over the crowd. “I don’t care what you said. I saw the pictures from the charity ball, and I know my son.”
“It’s…complicated,” I granted her.
She squeezed my shoulder. “You can’t fool me. Maybe you should quit fooling yourself.”
I thought about that as we left the stands and headed toward the area where friends and family could wait for the team. When my phone rang, I did a double take at the name onscreen. It was late.
“This is McRae,” I answered, nerves jangling in my stomach.
“I know you’re probably at the stadium.” Coach Grant’s voice poured into my ear, and I plugged the other one to hear him better. “I just wanted to give you a quick call and heads-up. We’re sending over an offer. We’d love to have you as part of the Royals next season.”
I was silent for a couple of beats, processing, then snapped out of it. “Shit, that’s great to hear. Thanks so much for the heads-up.”
“Take your time to look things over and get back with us. Now, go be with your family.”
“I will. Thank you, sir,” I said, then ended the call and pocketed my phone, still in a daze.
“Everything okay?” my dad asked.
“LA wants me next season. They’re sending over an offer.” I took a deep breath as I tried to figure out why I wasn’t as excited as I thought I would be.
13
CULLEN
“Atwood! Get in here a minute. I wanna talk to you,” Coach said just as I finished getting dressed after the game. My heart immediately dropped to my gut. What the hell had I done now? I hadn’t been in any trouble on the team since this whole thing with Houston started, but that didn’t always matter. Old habits die hard, so I couldn’t help but think the worst.
“Causing mischief again?” Tucker winked.
“Always.” Even when I didn’t know it, apparently.
He clapped me on the shoulder, which I knew he meant to be supportive, but it just stressed me out. What if it was bad news and they were trading me again? Things had been going well with the Rush. Houston kept me grounded, and I was actually making friends. I didn’t hang out much with anyone other than Houston, but the guys and I were cool. Usually, I kept to myself and didn’t give a fuck about my teammates and them the same with me. It didn’t feel like that in Denver, though.
For the first time since college, football was fun again.
“Everything okay?” I asked, automatically closing the door behind me.
“Don’t look so scared. I just wanted to tell you I’m proud of you. I know we’re all upset we didn’t win today, but you’re playing great football. Even more importantly, you’re keeping yourself in check, not screwing up, and have become a huge asset to the team. I knew fighting for you was the right decision.”
Fighting for me? That was the first I’d heard about that. No one in my life had fought for me—not really. “I…thank you,” I replied, not sure what else to say. “I’m not used to getting called into the coach’s office for anything other than being in trouble.” He laughed. “Oh no. You think I’m joking, but I’m serious.”