Secret Catch (15 page)

“You’re a stupid ass if you think that.” He picks the discarded football off the floor, then chucks it at me. “Stuff like this won’t stay secret for long.”

A sick taste fills my mouth. I know he’s right, and it’s not me I’m worried about. I’m scared as hell what could happen to Sam.

Shit…what the hell did we dig ourselves into?

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Paige looks at me through the mirror as I pin a blonde wig over her brown hair.

“You’d be surprised. People only see what they expect, and they don’t expect you and me at the game. And they
really
don’t expect us to be wearing wigs and rooting for the Huskies.” I turn her around so she faces me. “Go dogs!”

Paige usually does her makeup with a dark cat-eye-style eyeliner and red lipstick, so instead I give her light and neutral lip and draw a mole on her right cheek.

Once she puts on the light blue Husky jacket, she’s unrecognizable, unless you know to look.

I face her to the mirror again and smile. “See. You’re a new woman.”

Paige’s mouth turns up and she says, “My turn.”

This is gonna work. It has to. I know I promised Tyler I wouldn’t go, but there’s no way I’m not going to be there. Not after what Brad told me. When he stopped by the other night, I thought it was because his dad was giving him shit again, but he wanted to double check that I had plans during the game. It was weird, like he didn’t want me there all of a sudden. Now I
have
to see what happens. Not just to jump in the way in case Tyler’s in trouble, but also to stop my cousin from making another stupid mistake.

Paige turns me around. “What do you think?”

Instead of my auburn mop of curls, I have a straight black bob. She darkened my eyebrows, so they’re also black.  My red lipstick’s gone, replaced with a pink lip, and black-rimmed glasses finish it off.

I don’t recognize myself, and unless Brad is really looking, he won’t either…I hope.

“It’s awesome.” I turn and look at her, putting my hands on my hips. “So… do you still think this won’t work?”

***

There are two minutes left in the game, and the whole stadium’s on their feet. The only problem with my plan is every time Tyler makes a good play I go to cheer for him and Paige smacks my arm. I’m pretty sure tomorrow I’ll have a bruise.

The score is tied, and it’s the Trojans’ ball. The quarterback gets the ball and takes a few steps back, but my eyes are on sexy number eighty-eight.

He runs down the field toward the end-zone, his body poised to catch. Number twenty-four of the Huskies is right on top of him. Tyler pulls a little in front right as the quarterback lets it fly.

Tyler catches it and holds it tight, clutching it against his chest. He weaves in and out of blocked Huskies, but number twenty-four gets through. It takes him a few seconds but the Husky catches up to Tyler and then leaps, bringing him down hard. There’s a collective gasp through the stands. Tyler doesn’t get up. My body starts to move toward the field. I have to go to him. How badly is he hurt?

Paige’s hand shackles around my wrist, and I try to yank it away. I turn and meet her eyes, to yell at her to let me go, but she just shakes her head at me. Damn this covert stuff!

I move back to where I was, digging my nails into my palms. He’s still on the ground. How long has it been? Thirty seconds? A minute? My heart beats faster than Tyler was running, and I bite my nails before they do any more damage.

He moves, and I let out the breath I was holding. He gets up slowly at first, but once he’s on his feet, he shakes his head and waves to everyone.

And then I swear he’s looking right where I’m sitting, waving to me, giving me thumbs up. Paige inhales sharply.

“He can’t know it’s us. He can barely see from down on the field,” I whisper into her ear.

“If you say so.”

They line back up. Tyler’s still in so he must not have been hurt too badly, maybe just got the wind knocked out of him. I’ll feel a lot better when I can check him out though. Then possibly beat him up myself.

The quarterback gets the handoff, and Tyler charges halfway down the field.

A chant starts across the field from us. “
Tro-jans! Tro-jans!
”

I want to yell, but don’t think it would go over too well on this side. My eyes glue to Tyler as he catches the ball. Number sixteen’s right behind him, threatening to bring him down.

And then he lunges right at Tyler, going for his ankles. Tyler sidesteps at the last minute, and all number sixteen catches is air. Ten yards away from the end-zone, second down.

This side starts to chant.
“Defense. Defense.”
And the noise drowns out all other sounds.

A Husky goes to grab Tyler, but Tyler twists away from him and speeds off faster.

Five yards left.

But standing between him and the end-zone is number twenty-four. He’s crouched down ready for whatever Tyler brings.

Tyler goes to the left and twenty-four follows, reaching for Tyler—about to grab him around the waist and take him down. Tyler anticipates it and spins to the right till he’s out of the Husky’s grasp and then sprints into the end-zone…

Making the winning touchdown.

I can’t help myself; I let out a huge scream and clap widely. That is until Paige hits me again, and I apologize to all the people around me.

For a second, he does my brother’s victory dance.

If I didn’t love him all the way before, I would fall the rest of the way now. All of the Trojan team gathers around him, helmets thrown to the ground. He looks so damn hot on the field. I knew it. This is one of those times I wish I could scream to everyone, “That’s my boyfriend! I love him!”

But I can’t. And I definitely can’t run down to the field and jump up on him and kiss him till he can’t see straight. I had forgotten what he looked like doing his thing on the field, where he’s completely in his element, the joy written on his face. The only other time I see that look is when it’s just him and me. So
badly
I want to run down there.

But my butt stays on the bleachers.

***

“You’re poking me in the ribs,” Paige hisses.

“That’s the shifter.”

We’re hiding in my mom’s Chevy. I figured she wouldn’t miss it, and no one would recognize it. Right after the game we parked by Tyler’s truck, so we could check out what Brad has planned. If he tries anything I’ll make a surprise appearance.

My eyes are glued to Tyler’s truck, watching for any movement. A group of guys walk out of the building. Tyler’s in the middle of them, his hair still wet from the shower.

They’re all talking and pushing each other around, but I can’t hear anything. Shit. I should have thought to open one of the windows.

The group stops at Tyler’s truck and stand there talking. It’s probably about half of the team.

“Do you think Brad will show?” Paige whispers.

“I don’t know. I’m assuming he was planning here. I guess we’ll—”

Headlights come into the parking lot and break off my sentence. There’s probably about five cars total, but it’s hard to tell in the dark.

The Trojan players turn to face the newcomers. I grab onto Paige’s hand and squeeze it tight. I know Tyler said he was going to take care of it so nothing would happen, but I’m so used to handling things myself I have to hold onto something to keep from getting involved.

People pour from the cars, and soon it’s a Trojan Skyhawk standoff… and not on the field. Brad walks forward until he’s out in front. He says something I can’t hear, and Tyler comes up to meet him.

Shit. Are they gonna fight?

“What are you doing?” Paige grabs my arm as I reach for the door.

I bat her away. “Can’t hear.”

After I slide out, I crouch below the level of the windows and shut the door slowly. Then I creep around to the back of the car and try to get a good look.

Front row show now.

“Congratulations. I hear you guys won,” Brad says.

“What do you want?” Tyler crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“Payback.”

“For what? We’re two players down, and it looks like you have all of yours.”

“Jacoby deserved to be out for the season.”

Tyler’s forehead crinkles, but then he shakes his head and says, “And Fredrickson deserved a broken nose?”

“That was for the field.”

“
That
was for our locker room.” Tyler takes a couple steps back, clearly moving away from a fight. He gives Brad what looks like a sympathetic half-smile before turning around.

Brad advances on him. I can see his stance; I know what’s about to happen. My shoelace gets stuck, and I trip my way forward, but I don’t get far before someone else stops my cousin from punching Tyler in the back of the head.

“Is there a problem here?” The Trojan coach walks between them followed by a security guard.

Brad glares at Tyler, but brings his fist down. “No, sir. No, problem.”

The coach nods at Brad’s Skyhawk jacket. “A little far from home, aren’t you? You better get going. Now.”

Brad spits at the coach’s feet and walks back to his car. The blood is pounding through my ears, burning behind my eyes because one half of me wants to run after him, and the other wants to stay here with Tyler. The rest of the team disperses, and I reach down and tie my shoe. The coach stands there watching till all the Skyhawks’ cars are gone. Then he turns and looks at the Trojan players.

“Boys,
this
is how you deal with the rivalry. I’m proud of you for telling us. Looks like those tackles didn’t stop all brain activity. Good job. Now go on, get out of here.”

The coach and security guard walk back into the building, but the team just stands there.

“We can’t let them keep getting away with this shit,” one of the players says.

“Anything we do is just going to make it worse. And we don’t need three players out.” They all look at Tyler.

He holds up his hands. “I’m not going to do anything. But I can’t see them just walking away next time.”

“We just have to be on guard,” a guy with dark skin and broad shoulders says. I’m pretty sure that’s their quarterback. “If you guys think of anything bring it to me. And watch yourselves. We don’t need anyone getting jumped.”

They all nod and break up, slapping each other’s backs before going to their cars.

“Pizzeria, guys?” one of the players calls out.

There’s a chorus of yeahs, and Tyler says, “I’ll meet up later. I forgot something in my locker.”

He walks off in the direction of the coach, and the rest of the team piles into their cars. I slide back around the Chevy, and as soon as the last car takes off, I stand up, stretch my legs, and open the driver’s side door.

“Damn, that was close. I thought for sure they were gonna come to blows,” Paige says.

I reach in through the open door and grab my purse. “Do me a favor and drive this over to your place? I’ll meet up with you in a bit.”

She sighs and says, “You owe me.”

“Thank you,” I say, blowing out a hefty sigh. “Stay safe and I love ya.” She scoots into the driver’s seat, and I’m left alone in the parking lot with Tyler’s truck.

I run to the opposite side of it so I’ll be blocked from view from where he’ll walk up. Crouching down, I shimmy forward just a little so I can see past his tailgate.

Then he’s walking to me, and I want nothing more than to run out and jump on him, but I wait, double checking to make sure no one else is around.

When he gets to his truck, I sneak behind him and do what I’ve wanted to do all night.

My hands cover his eyes, and I place my lips against his neck. He turns in my arms and before he can say anything, I jump up on him and attack him with kisses.

He’s hesitant at first, but then I do my signature tongue move, flicking his lips open and then his hands grab my ass, holding me up, keeping me close. I lock my feet behind his back, and my arms behind his head.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers against my lips, “but I have a girlfriend. Red hair, red lips, cheeky grin. You’re hot”—he pauses and gestures to himself—“but this Don Juan is taken.”

I lightly tap the back of his head. “Shut up and kiss me. I’ve missed you.”