Secret Catch (11 page)

“Okay, condom boy,” she says after about ten minutes. She puts the ball in my hands and stands at a running position. “Give me a tough one, if you can.”

I smirk and motion for her to start running. She takes off, but I chase after her, snatching her waist and rolling so when we fall, she lands on me.

“That was not what I meant!” She giggles and screams, and I like it out here where we can be together without any shit.

I toss the football over my head and roll her so she’s flat on her back. My eyes find hers, and I take her wrists in one hand and hold them above her head. I give her a look that says I’m about to kiss the hell out of her. She licks her lips, smiling hard, but I grab her stomach instead with my other hand, opting for tickling her.

“Tyler! Stop!”

“No way, evil bird,” I say through my own laughter.

“I’ll knee your junk!”

Without thinking, I let go of her wrists to hold her knees, but I forgot how tough Sam is and next thing I know, I’m the one on my back while she pins my arms against my sides.

“Truce?” I offer up with a casual grin.

She bends down and kisses the tip of my nose. “Only because you’re cute.” She rolls on her back next to me, resting her head against my shoulder. Our breath fogs in front of our mouths as we breathe hard into the night air. I reach out and grab her hand.

“Thanks for this,” I tell her.

“You miss it, don’t you?”

“Every day.”

“Football cures everything, even when it’s part of the problem.”

Did I say that out loud before? I turn to look at her, but she’s focused on the sky.

“When do you get back on the field?” she asks.

“Next week, if Coach doesn’t find out about what happened tonight.”

“I’m sure the Skyhawks will keep it as hush, hush as they can.” Her voice lowers. “Fredrickson could press charges though. Then it could blow out.”

“He won’t do that.”

She squeezes my fingers, and I watch as a small, white fuzz drops onto her cheek.

“You caught the first snowflake,” I say, leaning over to kiss it off. I feel her cheeks twitch as she smiles.

“Tyler?”

“Mmm?”

Her neck turns so our foreheads are pressed together. I reach up and stroke her face, not able to keep from touching her.

She nuzzles into my hand before letting out a sigh. “I want to tell people.”

My eyebrows rise. “What?”

“I’m not trying to complain,” she says, turning back to the sky. “I know we
can’t
, but I
want
to.”

“I’m sorry,” I say like an idiot. But I can’t tell her to go shout it out. Not after what happened tonight. I’d hate for her to get caught up in the shit, or even worse, get hurt with it.

“Nothing to be sorry about, Tyler. I get it. I’m fine with what we’re doing and how we’re doing it. It’s just…there are moments when I want to say something.”

I turn on my side, resting my head on my knuckles and slowly play with the bottom of her jacket. “What kind of moments?”

“I don’t know. Like, if I were to ever see you with a big group of girls for example, I’d want to march right up to you and grab your hand. Then I’d shoot them all the evil eye and tell them ‘He’s mine. Keep your paws off!’”

I laugh, letting my fingers trail from on top of her jacket to underneath it. Her stomach has got to be a thousand degrees.

Her breathing changes a little, but she otherwise doesn’t acknowledge my hand on her skin. “And there are other times when…”

“When…?”

She shrugs, turning to look at me again. “When I know you’re about to do something great and I want to be a part of it. Like your game next week. We both know you’re going to catch the winning touchdown.”

We both laugh, and I travel a little farther up her stomach.

“Well, when that happens, I want to be the girl who rushes on the field, leaps up on your smoking hot and sweaty body, and kisses you right there in front of everyone.”

My eyes fall closed as I imagine that scenario. I hiss out a “hot damn” and Sam laughs.

“See?”

I open my eyes and grin. “Yeah, there are moments when I want to tell people, too.”

Her eyebrows pull together in a worry line. I knock my head against hers to get her to cut that out. She doesn’t need to worry about me.

“I know we
can’t
,” I say, using her words. “But I want to. Hell, if things were different, I bet you a million bucks every guy on the team would know who you were. You’d be dragged places you’d never want to go with the team girlfriends, and there’s no way you wouldn’t know my family already. We’d have already been through the awkward first dinner where my brothers throw out sexual innuendos any chance they get. My dad would be sizing you up to make sure you aren’t distracting me from my ‘career.’ Parker would be battling me for your attention, and my mom…”

My voice cuts off suddenly as I think about Sam with Mom. That’s when it hits me. This crashing wave I never expected until I pictured how our relationship would be if we didn’t have to hide it. My fingers stop their lazy patterns on Sam’s stomach, and I focus on her eyes as if I haven’t seen them before. All of who she is, who we are together, and what I really want for us to be smacks me hard in the gut and spreads clear down to my toes.

Holy freaking shit. I’m in
love with this girl
.

“Your mom…?” she asks, and I have to blink a few times to remember what the hell it was I was talking about.

Sam pokes me playfully in the hip. “She’s gonna hate me, isn’t she?” She’s teasing, but I see the worry line again.

I smile—really big ass, goofy grin, I’m-in-love
smile
at her. “Mom would be painting your nails, doing your hair, telling you all my embarrassing stories.”

Sam relaxes next to me, and I continue my circles on her skin.

“She’d probably make shopping dates with you. She and Parker would stick you in crowns and tutus and crap. Then she’d lecture me nonstop on how to treat a woman. Then we’d get the sex talk right then and there, only she’d use code words so Parker wouldn’t know what it was we were talking about. But Park’s smart. She’d pick up on it anyway.”

Sam lifts her eyes to meet mine. “Sounds like you’ve been through it before.”

Damn, I say romantic crap like that and still get in trouble for it. I lightly pinch the skin by her bellybutton.

“No. I just know my mom.”

“And she’s sick of all the testosterone running rampant in that house.”

“Definitely.”

Sam turns back to the sky, but she closes her eyes and hums under her breath. I feel the vibrations with my fingers on her stomach. “You make meeting your parents sound less nerve-wracking than I think it should.”

“Is that bad?”

“Not bad. Scary. But not bad.”

I wonder what has her scared, but before I can ask she hums again.

“You okay?”

She nods. “Yep, just thinking.”

I don’t know if it’s because I’m scared, too… scared of falling in love so fast, scared of losing her, scared of something happening to her if we were caught… or just scared in general, but I pop my mouth open to ask something to ease some of that terrified shit flying through me.

“You’re not re-thinking me, right?” My breath comes out in a weird pant as she opens one eye to look at me. “I mean, we’re still good even though Brad wants to beat me to a pulp and we still can’t say anything to anyone and—”

She laughs pressing a hand to my lips, and that makes me laugh because I’m being a damn girl about this.

“I’m not re-thinking anything about you,” she says, and closes her eyes again. “I’m just thinking about you.”

“What about me?”

She takes a deep breath and it hovers over her mouth in the night air. “I keep thinking if you move your finger one more time, I may have to tackle you and show you just what that is doing to me.”

My grin turns into a full-out smile, and I stroke across her stomach, dipping a finger in her bellybutton. She lets out a sexy as hell moan, and then pushes me on my back. I’m given no more warning as she shows me over and over just exactly what that was doing to her.

Even with hardly any sleep last night I feel refreshed. It might have been rolling around in the grass with Tyler for hours, or it could’ve been the pot of coffee I drank. Either way I feel pretty good.

Okay, it’s definitely the first one.

Luckily for me the first half of my day goes by fast. Now I just have to get through the after lunch classes and I’ll be good to go.

Paige finds me already eating at our table. The look on her face tells me I’m about to get the third degree.

I hold up a hand. “Before you say anything, take a good look around.”

The cafeteria is covered in posters that cheer on the Skyhawks, half the football team sits two tables away. Brad’s not here
yet
, but I’m sure he’ll be here soon. I used to look forward to seeing him, but after last night I’m not sure what I feel.

“Did you know the package was going to be delivered?” Paige takes a bite of her sandwich.

I just give her a blank stare.

“Last night…” she says behind her soda.

And then I realize she means the Trojans and if I wasn’t surrounded by a bunch of people that hated them I’d laugh out loud at the irony of her comment. “I knew the
package
was coming. I just didn’t know what it was or when it would be delivered.”

“I heard some of the contents got damaged.”

I look around and shake my head at her. I’m sure no one is sitting here listening to us talk, but the last thing I need is someone to know I’m fraternizing with the enemy.

“Are you staying after to help clean up the bleachers?”

“I was thinking about it. You?”

I shake my head. “I have to get home for Josh and don’t know what Mom’s going to be like.” I take a bite of my sandwich but barely taste it.

“You want to get together later?”

“I would… but I have a date with the ‘package delivery man.’” I give her a sassy smile.

A food tray slams into my elbow. “O.M.G. Did you guys see what Brad is wearing?” Bridget asks as she plops down next to me.

“No,” I grumble, rubbing out my elbow. “I haven’t seen him at all today.”

Bridget laughs and sits in the seat next to me and motions us in. “He’s wearing a
Trojan
jersey.”

Paige’s eyes jump to mine. “Really?” she says in a high voice. She has got to work on her acting. “How did he get it?”

“You guys remember that game we played against them? Well, the guy that hit him…it’s his jersey. I don’t know how he got it.” She leans a little closer. “Rumor is he stole it when they trashed the Trojan locker room.”

I scrunch up my face. “So, why’s he wearing it?”

Bridget shakes her head. “I don’t know, but I think it has something to do with last night. I think they’re planning something.”

“Like what?” Paige asks.

Bridget’s lips move, but I can’t hear anything past the blood roaring in my ears. I shoot a deadly look at Brad, because I am done with this rivalry bullshit, and not just because it’s my cousin and my boyfriend who end up throwing punches, even though that’s a huge part of it.

“Sam.” Paige snaps her fingers in front of my face.

“Huh? What?”

Bridget laughs and shakes her head. “I was just saying I don’t know what they’re planning. But we’re all meeting for the Trojan game this Friday. You in?”

I shake my head, eyes burning and a huge lump forming in my throat. The smell of my sandwich turns my stomach sour, so I push it away.

A large cheer breaks out by the door and works its way into the lunchroom. Bridget’s long blonde ponytail swivels as she turns toward the commotion, but Paige’s eyes stay on mine. She mouths, “You okay?” I take a deep breath and nod.

Because really I
have to
be okay, but inside my heart is pounding and my skin is crawling and I want nothing more than to be able to run to Tyler and warn him about what’s coming. Maybe he can stop the endless circle of Trojan vs. Skyhawk pranks. I can’t do that though. I have to stay here and pretend I don’t even know who he is.

People start to pound on the tables, starting off slow and then gaining in speed, rumbling the cafeteria while they chant, “Skyhawks!”

Paige tips her head over my shoulder and as much as I don’t want to, I turn around to look. Standing on the table, two away from me, is Brad draped in Tyler’s jersey.

It doesn’t really look like his jersey anymore because under Trojans, they spray painted
suck.
On the back they covered up Koontz with the word
loser
and his double eights are now red bull’s-eyes. The thing that makes no sense at all is the number 11 under the word
suck.

My fingers wrap around my seat, and my nails dig into the bottom of the plastic. It takes everything I have not to march over there and rip it off Brad’s back.

Jumping up and down on the table and motioning to the back of the jersey, Brad gets the cafeteria to their feet. The stomping and chanting drowns out all other sounds.

That is until Mr. Johnston walks over to Brad and waves him down. “All right that’s enough people. Back to your lunches.”

I turn around to Paige, ready to get out of here, but her mouth and eyes are in perfect O’s. Ah shit.

“He’s headed this way, isn’t he?”

She nods and quickly starts grabbing her things. I’m right with her, ready to abandon my backpack and four page history essay just to get away from him, but our attempts are completely futile.

He slides in between Bridget and me, flinging his arm over my shoulders. “How’s it going Sammy?”

I clench and unclench my jaw, shove his arm off of me and say, “Call me that again and I’ll let the bottom of this lunch tray kiss your face.”

He’s unfazed by my threat, and good because I didn’t really think it through. Normally I keep the beating him up insults to myself, even in jokes.

“You hear about last night?” he asks. “We kicked some more Trojan ass.”

I don’t respond, too busy grinding my teeth into enamel dust.

“What’s with the jersey?” Paige points her soda at his chest.

“Souvenir.”

“And the eleven on the front?” I manage to get through my grinding.

He looks down and laughs. “I guess it kind of does look like an eleven. They’re tally marks. Two Trojans down.” He starts laughing again. “It won’t look like an eleven for long, there’ll be another mark soon.”

“Who’s the lucky tally?”

“The owner of this piece of shit.” He pinches the sleeve of the jersey and holds it out.

“What are you going to do?” Paige puts her elbow on the table and leans in toward him.

A smile spreads across his face. “Let’s just say eighty-eight’s gonna have a little company after his game. We have to celebrate him being back in after being suspended.”

“Seriously?” I blurt. “
You
just got off suspension. Now you’re going to pick another fight?”

“Chill. We’re just going to razz them a bit.” He reaches over and takes a massive bite out of my turkey sandwich. “So you’ll be there?”

I snort. “Hell no.”

“Come on. You haven’t been to a game since we whooped Trojan ass.”

“It’s not like you want me to watch them play. You want me to witness you beating up some Trojan player.” I take back my sandwich. “Hard pass.”

The bell rings, and I let out a sigh of relief.

“Fine, be a party pooper.” He slugs my upper arm before getting up from his seat. “Catch ya later, Sammy.”

I pick up my lunch. “Tray, meet face.”

Brad laughs and waves me off. Paige and I head to the conveyer belt that takes our trays away.

She leans into me. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” I’m always fine. I have to be, so I take a deep breath and shake it off.

“Kay. Love you.” She bumps her hip into mine.

“Love you too.”

As soon as I get out into the hallway I take out my phone. I check left and right real quick and then pull up the contact that’s marked by a heart.

I know what happened to ur jersey. Airport 2nite 10?

I hit send and then I erase it. Brad hasn’t snagged my phone from me in a long time, but I can’t be too careful.

***

I weave in and out of neighborhoods, taking the least direct route I can think of. My eyes constantly dart to the rearview mirror to check for any headlights that stay behind me longer than they should.

The same car’s been behind me for more than two blocks, so to make sure it’s not following me I turn left at the next block. When I get around the corner I look back and see the car turning after me. The headlights blind me as I stare at it trying to see what make and color the car is, but in the dark I can’t tell.

My heart speeds up and I sit a little straighter in my seat. The road I’m on is all houses and in Skyhawk territory, but that doesn’t mean someone’s not following me.

My hands go to two and ten, and I take a deep breath to stop from jumping out of my skin. I take the next left.

The car doesn’t.

I let out a sigh and relax my grip, shaking the cramps out of my hands.

The airport’s less than five minutes away, but, the way I’m freaking myself out, I don’t want to take any chances. So, instead of five, fifteen minutes later I park my car beside Tyler’s truck.

He opens my door before I can even shut the engine off, and then he pulls me into his strong arms. “Took you long enough.”

I snake my arms around his neck and coax his face down to mine. Lips touch and arms tighten. His tongue runs along my lower lip and I meet it with mine. I try to show him how much I care about him in this kiss, by the way I move my mouth along his, the way my tongue moves with his, and the way I run my hands up and down his back.

We inch apart, and then rest our foreheads together, our breathing heavy and quick.

“I missed you,” I squeeze him around the middle as hard as I can.

“Ugh.” He laughs. “You’re too strong for me.”

A laugh bubbles out of me, and he grabs my hand and walks me over to the bed of his truck. The tailgate pops down easily, and he lifts me up onto it. Then he jumps on next to me, grabs the sleeping bag, and wraps it around us.

My feet swing back and forth, and I snuggle into his side.

“So, why so late, evil bird?”

I lightly pinch his side. “I was paranoid. Just wanted to make sure no one was following me. So I took a bunch of back roads.”

“Were you followed?” He pulls me a little closer.

“No. Like I said, I was just being paranoid.”

“Why so nervous?”

I blow out a big breath. I knew I was going to tell him about everything that happened today, but now I’m afraid. Which
sucks
. I hate being scared, or showing what scares me. But sitting here in his arms, I’m suddenly terrified. What if he decides that I’m not worth it? That this is all too much to deal with or too dangerous?

He rubs his hand down my arm. “Sam? Does this have to do with my jersey?”

I find his hand under the sleeping bag. “Brad came into the cafeteria today wearing it. Only he had defaced it first. That’s not… exactly the problem though.” I pause. Shit. What’s wrong with me? My heart thuds painfully in my chest. I need to chase these fears away somehow. Stupid love jacking up my tough shell.

“Okay…” He nuzzles against my head until I’m looking at him. My eyes are burning, so I slam them shut, trying to hold off tears.

“Sam. What’s the matter? You’re scaring me.” He swipes a thumb across my cheek.

“I’m… I’m…
afraid
,” I whisper.

His hold goes rigid and I peek through my wet lashes at his pale, moonlit face.

“What are you afraid of?”

“You.”

“You’re afraid of me?” His eyebrows crinkle together.

I shake my head. “Not of you. That the Skyhawks are going to hurt you. Afraid this is going to be too much for you. That you’re going to decide one day I’m not worth all this hassle. That sneaking around isn’t worth it and you want a regular relationship.” My stomach clenches, and now that I’ve voiced these fears they have me paralyzed, unable to move until I know what he’s thinking.