Fair Catch

by Kandi Steiner

For all the girls who love football as much as I do… This one’s for you.

A pinky promise is a sacred vow.

“I can’t—” “Yes, you can. You’re a better kicker than me already and you know it.” “That’s soccer, Gav. It’s different.” “Not by much.”

“Girls don’t play football.”

“Not everyone is going to be okay with this, you know.” “I’ll kill anyone who isn’t. And whoever I can’t handle, Zeke will.” My blood ran cold at the mention of his best friend — a title I very much believed should be stripped after what he did.

“What did I miss?” “Riley’s going to take my place.” Zeke’s other eyebrow lifted to join the first one. “She’s going to try out for the team.” He paused. “And make it. Because obviously.” At that, Zeke smiled, his warm brown eyes finding mine. “We’ll have the best kicker in the state.”

“It’s your fault my brother is in this situation at all, you irresponsible, selfish prick,” I seethed. “So, the only thing I need from you is for you to go back in time and never be born.”

“I can’t keep you away from my brother. That’s his choice. But as for me?” I sneered, pointing my finger right into his chest. “Stay far away from me, Zeke Collins.”

How strange that just two years ago, that was all I could think about, all I was consumed with. Outside of soccer, my life consisted of planning my next museum trip, curating my own little assortment of art, dreaming about an internship that would lead to a career where I was in charge of a museum’s entire collection. One pinky promise had shifted my priorities, had steered me in a new direction.

When you’re the only girl on the football team, you get used to the stares. You have to.

“Must be that time of the month.” I froze, arms falling to my sides as he yucked it up, elbowing another player I didn’t recognize who laughed right along with him. I cracked my neck, ready to lay into that little brat, but didn’t get my chance before he was shoved from behind. Kyle stumbled forward, shocked for only a moment before he turned, pissed off and ready to fight. And found Zeke Collins standing behind him.

“They’re saying I’m your protective boyfriend.”

“Don’t worry,” he said on a laugh. “I shut it down. The last thing I need is any of these college hotties thinking I’m tied down by the likes of you.”

For the next month, it didn’t matter that I had a learning disorder, that reading and comprehending was difficult for me on most days and impossible on others. I wasn’t expected to be in class or doing homework or doing anything other than eating, sleeping, and breathing football. It was my time to shine.

But Riley didn’t make that promise with the intention of just appeasing her brother. She made a promise she would die before breaking. I watched her defeat every odd over the last two years, going from a central midfielder on our girls’ soccer team to the starting kicker for our football team in one summer. And I didn’t care what anyone said — she didn’t get that position because of what happened to Gavin, or because she was a girl in a world trying to make up for a fucked-up patriarchal system. She earned it. She was the best kicker I’d ever played with.

I didn’t care if she hated me. In fact, I was glad she did. It made it easier to keep my focus on protecting her and off the temptation to claim her for my own.

She wanted to storm away from me just as much as she needed me to comfort her.

“Hey,” I added, noting the worry she was trying to hide. Her brows bent together, and I reached out, squeezing her shoulders. “It’s all good.” Again, she nodded, not able to look at me. And I couldn’t resist. “I’ll still love you when you’re redshirted.”

“I did manage to find one player who was unbothered by having you as a roommate.” He paused. “Zeke Collins.”

“Should I make you a sign? No Boys Allowed.” “Oh, there are plenty of boys who are allowed,” I said, crossing my arms and leaning my hip where he’d just been with a wide grin. “Just not you.” Zeke was still smiling, but something of a shadow slipped over him at those words. I couldn’t figure out what his expression meant before my brother called his attention.

I fought to keep my eyes off the way her ass looked in the tiny shorts she wore, how a sliver of her tight stomach showed between the band of those shorts and the tank top she’d paired with them. With a sniff, my eyes were on the screen again, and I told myself she’d be fine walking down the hall of horny college football players.

“How’s she doing?” “She’s killing it,” I answered honestly. “And you’re keeping an eye on her?” My chest tightened, not just with his question, but with the promise that rested underneath it. I’d sworn on my life that I’d watch over her for him, and I had — all through high school. There was no chance of that stopping now. “I’ve got her back,” I promised him. “But honestly… she doesn’t need me. She holds her own.” Gavin smiled at that. “Not surprised.”

“It’s just wild.” “It is. I think she surprises even herself sometimes.” I tapped his knee with my own. “She might make pro.” “She doesn’t want to.” I frowned at that. “What do you mean?” He shrugged. “There aren’t any women in the NFL.” “Maybe she’ll be the first.” “That’s what I’ve told her, but I think she’s just doing this for me. Once she graduates, I doubt she’ll touch a football again.”

But when Riley walked in later, my eyes caught hers, and though she held nothing but disdain in her gaze, I felt nothing but pure respect radiating from my own. She could have a career in football — if she wanted it. And I was determined to help her see that, no matter how the odds were stacked.

“Come on, Novo. You don’t have to pretend anymore. Just tell me you’re in love with me and have been since we were kids.”

“Nice kick, Novo,” Clay said when I slipped past him, elbowing me playfully. “You do that shit in a real game, and you’re going up on my shoulders.”

But the more players I passed, the more those stares became smiles, and nods, and even a few mumbled affirmations that I couldn’t quite make out. Once I had my food and sat down at one of the tables in the cafeteria, I recognized it. Respect. It radiated off every pair of eyes that found me. No, it wasn’t the whole team, but it was certainly more than I’d had before that point.

I was used to eating by myself, but Holden took the seat across from me as soon as I sat down, and the rest of the table filled quickly with players who hadn’t said more than a word to me all camp.

When I finally made my own way up to the papers, I looked for her name first. And there she was, the second row under Special Teams. PK — Riley Novo.

My chest swelled to an almost painful point of pride, and I was thankful to be facing the chart and not the locker room when a shit-eating grin found my lips. She did it. I continued scanning the sheet, and a few rows under her name, there it was. PR — Zeke Collins.

“I made chart,” she breathed. “Not only that,” I added. “But you’re number one.” “Starting?!” I nodded.

In that moment, she wasn’t the tough football player with the stone-cold exterior and resting bitch face she’d tried so hard to become in the past couple years. She was just… Riley.

I laughed, but the sound died in the next instant. Because she launched herself into my arms. I caught her in surprise, but that surprise was replaced by an unfamiliar wave of heat once I realized she was pressed against me. Her arms were still slick from practice where they wrapped around my neck, and mine slipped around her waist like they belonged there. She buried her head in my neck, squeezing tight, and the scent of her shampoo rushed over me.

I remembered for just a breath what it was like to be carefree, to be a little girl with a crush on my brother’s best friend.

I didn’t care if I’d hurt his feelings. He’d hurt me and my entire family far more than that.

“You are not stupid,” he said, his eyes connected with mine. “You are special.” For some reason, that word hurt worse.

“You are not stupid, son,” he said. “You are remarkable.”

Even with pads on and her cheeks red from exertion, she was sexy — and maybe the fact that she didn’t realize it was what made it all the clearer to me and every guy on that field. And there were plenty of them with their eyes on her, just like me.

I watched her drop her helmet, struggling to get her pads and jersey off and taking her tank top halfway up in the process. She yanked it back down to cover her stomach once she was free from her jersey, and then she stood there in a daze, her lips curling up as she shook her head in disbelief. But me? I wasn’t surprised at all. You did it, Mighty Mouse.

“No one is perfect in football,” Gavin said, as if he were reading my mind. “Not even Tom Brady — though he’s pretty damn close.”

“It was just some guys from the team, and they wanted to hang out with you, too, by the way.” “Oh, right. And I’m sure all those groupies wanted the same, especially judging by their lovely pet names for me.” She pinned me with a sarcastic glare and purse of her lips as I remembered how Jaylie and Victoria had called her a bitch. She must have missed how I defended her the next instant and warned them that if they said another word about her, I’d kick them out. “I’m sorry about them,” I said honestly.

I wanted to tell her how much she infuriated me, how all I wanted was to smash whatever bullshit was still simmering between us from something that happened years ago and be friends. I wanted her to know how much I stuck up for her when she wasn’t around, wanted her to realize that I was her friend whether she wanted me to be or not.

Maybe that was the hardest thing to reconcile with — that I’d lost her friendship forever.

“Don’t get me wrong. I fucking love football. It’s everything to me. But I think that’s just it,” I said, finally meeting Riley’s gaze. “It’s everything to me. You’re right. I’m not smart. I don’t have any idea what I’ll do if the NFL doesn’t pan out. This is it for me, Novo.” I held out my hands. “Football is all I have. And most of the time, I love that. But sometimes,” I confessed. “It scares the ever living shit out of me.”

my mind was on how one little conversation somehow felt like the biggest win of the season.

I missed. I missed, and we lost. We lost, and it was all my fault.

“When you’re performing well, you’re happy and amazing. When you mess up even the tiniest bit, you feel worthless and like an imposter.”

“This is where the difference is made — input versus output-based success. Sometimes, you do everything right and the result isn’t what you want. But, if you keep doing all the right things instead of letting one bad result make you question everything, that’s where the consistency comes in. And,” he added with a wink. “It doesn’t leave room for you to beat yourself up the way I know you love to do.”

“You and Peter Garrett were pretty serious for a while.” I rolled my eyes. “Peter Garrett took my virginity and taught me all the things I don’t want a guy to do to me in bed. That’s about the only purpose he served.”

Sometimes I longed for a beer, or a mixed drink, but not enough to make me forget every reason why I always chose to stay sober now.