Sidelined: A Sports Romance (5 page)

O
h my God
. He fell almost at my feet, as if he had taken a tumble from the sky. Sure, he was in the end zone and I was close to the fans, but I locked on his eyes. I wanted to turn away or cover up or run back to the Goddesses’ locker room, but instead, my boots kept my feet planted in one spot. My hands were on my hips with a pair of golden pom-poms nestled at my side.

Sam was a Wrangler? What in the hell was going on? He walked out of the end zone back to his bench and I stared at the jumbotron. I never paid attention to the opposing team. I barely paid attention to our team. Every time they called Sam Hickson’s name for a catch, they were calling out my Sam? Okay, that was stupid. He wasn’t mine, but last night, he felt like he was mine.

“Natalia, our line is moving. Come on,” Presley scolded me.

I had forgotten that after every score we moved to the next section of the stadium. It didn’t matter who scored the points, we kept moving. We rotated clockwise around the four sides. Eventually, the line of dancers I was in would be behind the Wranglers’ bench. I had to trade spots before that happened. I had to stay at this end of the field. I couldn’t see him again—not like this.

I raised my hands overhead, smiling at the fans, and took my next position behind the Warriors.

They were pissed. The Wranglers had scored within the first six minutes of the game. They were cursing like sailors behind me. I focused on the crowd and tried to pick out someone that might appreciate a smile. I saw a young mother with a baby strapped to her chest, a Warriors’ hat on its little head. I targeted her and kept my eyes straight ahead.

What was I going to do? My mind raced. My heart beat rapidly. I was going crazy. Sam was on the other side of the field. We had royally fucked this up. I tried to keep calm, but it was nearly impossible. It wasn’t as if I had slept with one of the Warriors players. But maybe this was worse. Everyone on my side of the field hated the Wranglers. I’d never heard of a rivalry like this until I became a Goddess.

I was sure I had broken some type of Goddess code. I had probably violated an employee rule. There could be consequences. They could throw me off the dance squad.

“What is wrong with you?” Presley asked from the corner of her mouth.

I waved at the baby again. “Nothing.” I grinned.

“You look like you’re in pain and you’re smiling all weird.”

I took a deep breath and kicked my good leg high in the air. “See? Fine.” I laughed, but if Presley could see it on my face, then I was terrible at hiding it.

“This is the most important game of our lives, Natalia. Get it together.”

“I’m fine,” I replied. “Let’s dance like we’re supposed to.”

I slung my arm around her as our line snaked together so we could kick across each other. Maybe if I focused on the routines I’d forget Sam was behind me. I’d forget last night. I’d forget that I was falling apart.

It wasn’t working. I felt off balance. I was smiling, but I was shaking. I lost the mom and the sweet baby in the crowd. There was a slimy guy staring at me and I cringed.

What had I done?

“Ow,” Presley whined.

“Sorry. Sorry.” I had pinched her shoulder. I wasn’t paying attention to anything but the fact that on the other side of this field was the most amazing one-night stand I’d ever experienced. I couldn’t get him out of my head.

“What is going on with you?” Presley growled through clenched teeth.

“I said I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to grab you. My boots slipped a little.”

“You’re going to hurt someone.”

I took a deep breath. I didn’t want a lecture from her. She had no idea what I was going through.

“I won’t. I’ve got this.” I kicked in the opposite direction, trying to relax my face into a genuine smile.

I felt bad for thinking it, but thank God the Warriors didn’t score on their possession. Our team line stayed in the same part of the stadium for another punt return. If the game ended now, with the Wranglers ahead by seven, I’d be happy. I wouldn’t have to rotate one quarter closer to Sam. I could escape without the awkward after-game exchange.

Although, what would that be? Could we even speak to each other? Would he want to? Would he realize I was a dance squad girl and not want anything to do with me?

This was a nightmare.

I
paced behind the bench
. As soon as the special teams returned to the sideline, I’d have to take the field again. I couldn’t see Natalia from our side. I scanned the dozens of dancers on the perimeter, but there were too many players in the way. I didn’t know where she was or if it was even possible to land at her feet again.

The Warriors called a time out and everyone groaned. One of the assistants ran over to me with a printed handout of the defense’s lineup.

“Thanks.” I grabbed the sheet to study it. But I couldn’t concentrate. All I could think about was looking up from the end zone and seeing Natalia.

Her long legs were decked out with gold boots and she was wearing a skimpy top. It was as if she was a mirage and I had imagined her, but I was positive it was her. The look on her face said everything.

“Looks like they’re changing their blocks.” Wes walked up behind me.

“Yeah, I see that.”

“I think we should throw to you three times straight instead of rotating between you, Persons, and Stubbs. It’ll confuse them for a few more plays.”

“All right,” I agreed.

Wes could be reciting the Greek alphabet right now and I wouldn’t know the difference. My head was reeling. I wanted the time out to last an hour so I could find her. I wanted to run up to each of the dancers until I knew what I had seen wasn’t a dream. She was here. Natalia was in the same place.

I heard the ref blow the whistle and jogged to the forty-yard line. I was on the far right side of the field and I made the mistake of looking at the Warriors’ bench. There she was, waving her pom-poms in the air. I’d know that ass anywhere. My lips had been all over it.

The adrenaline pumped through me, but I hesitated half a second when Wes called for the snap. Damn it, it was enough to put me behind pace. Everything was a blur and I struggled to settle my nerves. I knew I had fucked up no matter how fast I ran or far I dove to get in position. When the ball headed for me, I was off step. I panicked, knowing there was almost no chance I could redeem myself for hesitating at the scrimmage line. I reached for it, throwing my entire body into the air with my full force, but the ball slipped through my fingers and landed on the ground, rolling out of bounds. I hung my head as the fans cheered and the Warriors hollered around me. Shit.

Wes screamed at me over the defense. “What the hell was that?”

I shook my head and tapped my helmet as if I hadn’t heard the call. If I caught the next one, it would all be forgiven. I knew better than to look over my shoulder. Her back was to me anyway.

Wes grunted the call and I took off. I wasn’t going to miss this time. The ball hit me square in the chest and I raced toward the goal line. I ran another ten yards before the cornerback took me down.

The crowd was pissed, and that was enough for me to know Wes would be happy. Stubbs gave me a thumbs up and I took my position behind the line of scrimmage. I had to keep my head clear. Another catch and we could run a scoring play.

I cracked my knuckles and leaned forward. I could maneuver through the linemen with no problem. As soon as I heard the snap, I ran toward the center of the field and the ball came spiraling toward me. I grasped it and tucked it against my chest. I shoved off one defender and plowed down a second one. I could see the end zone. I couldn’t believe they were going to let me score this easily. I raced over the ten-yard line, when out of nowhere, the cornerback plowed me to the ground from the side.

“Thought you could score?” He stood over me, baring his teeth. “Not in Warrior territory.”

I glared at him. “Who has the points on the board?”

He stepped over me as one of his teammates hauled him away. He was one of those jackasses who liked to fight. All it would take from me was a real taunt and he would have thrown himself on me. He didn’t care about fines or penalties. He was a defender.

Persons walked up to me. “What did that damn corner say?”

“Nothing.” I shook my head. “He’s a fucking moron.”

Persons slapped my helmet a few times. “Going to let me get this six?”

I laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”

He looked straight in my eyes, the dark paint running down his cheeks from the humid night. “I don’t shit talk about the score.”

I knew I had to block this time, but I wanted those points. I needed them. I gritted my teeth together, determined to get open. If Wes saw me in the end zone, he would throw it to me no matter what play he called. We were alike in that way—we both loved to score.

I faced the Warriors’ front line. I glared at the man in front of me. His nostrils flared and his knuckles were white from pressing into the grass with over three hundred pounds of weight. I’d studied him. He was strong, but sluggish.

“You’re not getting past me,” he threatened.

“You sure about that?” I smiled, cocking my head to the side.

He was leaning so far forward it would be easy to throw him off balance. As soon as Wes took the snap I hurled myself forward, throwing the lineman to the ground. He grunted, reaching for my legs, but I was ready for the arms and hands that would come for me. I jumped high over his back, running past him into the end zone. Persons and I were on opposite sides of the goal post, but he had double coverage and I was wide open.

I felt the surge of adrenaline. The energy sizzle under my skin. I needed Wes to see me, and this play was mine.

The ball zipped close to my head and I caught it with one hand, yanking it from the air. There was no way to describe the feeling. The purity of the moment when I scored for the team. It was fucking unreal.

The Warrior crowd started throwing popcorn and beer cans down from the stands. Stubbs gave me a high-five and I felt like the luckiest bastard here. Back-to-back touchdowns and it was only the first quarter.

I tossed the ball into the first row to a kid wearing a Wranglers jersey. He jumped up and down. There were a few of our faithful here. Only you couldn’t hear them because the locals were so fucking obnoxious.

I crossed the field and took a cup of water while we waited for the field goal team to kick. I smiled. It was fourteen to zero and it was exactly the way we wanted to start the season.

I felt the high. The rush from scoring. The feeling that I was invincible. Nothing could stop me. Not the Warriors. And then I looked up and saw her marching in my direction toward the goal post. I swallowed hard. She was getting closer and I realized she spotted me too. I was on the edge of the bench closest to the goal line.

I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t pretend I didn’t see her. I couldn’t stop staring at her legs, or her breasts spilling out of that top.

I didn’t know how this would work, but I wasn’t leaving Warriors stadium without her number. She looked up at the crowd and ignored me, but I knew she felt it too. We had an unmistakable draw toward each other.

It was everything I didn’t want. Everything I said I had to stay away from. A distraction. The thing that could get in my head. The one thing that could bring me down. But she was twenty yards away, and she was the only thing here I wanted.

“Damn it,” I muttered.

“You need more water?” the attendant asked. I didn’t realize he was standing close to me.

I crumpled the cup in my fist. “Yeah. Colder next time.”

He ran toward the drink station. But I wasn’t paying attention to him, or the punt return. My eyes were on Natalia.

W
e were
one side closer to the Wranglers’ bench and I was so nervous my knees were about to give way. Sam saw me as we walked toward the short end of the field. He didn’t just look at me. It was a full-body stare, raking over every inch of me. My spine tingled from it, remembering how he undressed me last night.

How he ran his tongue over my skin. How he kissed me. How he felt when he pushed into me, taking me somewhere I’d never been. I let him do things to my body I’d only heard about. It was incredible and magic and hot and all the things I needed to forget.

Presley tilted her head toward me. “Okay, something is up. You are totally off rhythm, Miss Ballerina.”

I glared at her. “Leave it alone.”

“Can’t. You’re making us all look bad.”

“That’s ridiculous.” I waved at the crowd. They wouldn’t know if I was off step. The men drooled at us and the women mainly ignored us.

We weren’t the attraction here. People only cared about what was going on behind us on the field. There were nine other girls in my line. I wasn’t the one they noticed more than the others.

“Are you still drunk from last night?” she asked.

“What?” I turned toward her. I wasn’t pretending to shake my hips this time.

“We know you left the bar with a Wrangler.”

“What are you talking about, Pres?” Was I the only one who didn’t know who Sam was?

“Keep dancing,” she instructed.

I threw a leg in the air and shook my hair in a long circle. “Keep talking,” I spit back.

“The entire Wrangler team was at the bar last night and you’re the only Goddess who went home with one.”

My mouth almost fell open, but I knew I had to keep moving or she’d stop talking. I grapevined to the right with her and then followed to the left.

“What do you know?”

She shimmied, showing off the tops of her breasts with a jiggle. I followed her move. Times like this, I hated myself.

“That you either hate being a Goddess or you’re a complete football novice.”

I wasn’t going to tell her it was both. “You know I’m still learning the game.”

“That might explain how you don’t know who Sam Hickson is. He was the highest-rated tight end in the league last year. But the Super Bowl team was in the bar with us. The entire team.” She eyed me. “Wes Blakefield, the quarterback?”

I stared at her blankly. Ballerinas didn’t study rosters for football. Last year when they were at the Super Bowl, I was dealing with the catastrophic affects of my accident. I was in rehab seven days a week. Sometimes twice a day. I shuddered thinking about the brace I wore and the torture of daily exercises.

“Why didn’t someone tell me?” I hissed.

“Because Heather and I are the only ones who saw you.” She winked. “And you could use some fun.”

“What’s that supposed to be mean? You think I’m stuffy?” I didn’t know which part was supposed to insult me.

“Your words, not mine, but yes, you’re a little stuffy. You could loosen up and act like you aren’t a prisoner on this team.”

“I don’t act like that.”

But there was truth in what Presley said. I didn’t socialize after practices or games. I didn’t do movie night, or get my nails done with everyone. I used my experience on the squad to keep in shape, use the dance facilities, and learn new choreography. I made it work for me because I had to. There wasn’t another job that could offer everything the Goddesses did.

“You don’t act like it’s a privilege to be a Goddess. You should be proud of what you do, Natalia.”

“You’re right,” I agreed. “You’re completely right. What do I do about last night? I’m not the only one who was hanging out with a Wrangler. I saw you too. Everyone drank with the team. You were with Wranglers. I didn’t doing anything you didn’t do.”

“They bought us drinks. Not the same thing as leaving the bar with them. We left as a squad.”

It was almost time for us to do a group dance. I needed a few more answers from Presley before I got in place.

“But you didn’t tell anyone else?” I asked. “No one knows, right?”

“No, but if they find out, you’re off the team. No one can help you if it gets out. Not even Heather.”

“What?” My stomach turned. I might be sick in front of thousands of screaming fans. I didn’t love being a Goddess, but I needed the money. It was all that I had. It was how I had health insurance. It was how I rebuilt my leg to ballerina strength. I needed this job.

“You committed a cardinal sin,” she explained.

“I didn’t sleep with him,” I lied.

Her eyes widened. “You didn’t?”

“No,” I huffed. “He walked me to my car to get my number. And I didn’t give it to him. I didn’t even know his last name or that he was a Wrangler. This is crazy, Pres. I can’t get kicked off the squad.”

“Oh.” She chewed her bottom lip. “We thought you…”

“That I’d have a one-night stand?” I used my best astonished voice.

“I guess not. Ballerinas don’t do that sort of thing, huh?”

“No, we don’t.”

I walked behind her to start the team dance. I had narrowly saved my reputation. Now I needed to talk to Heather. In case word spread, I wanted to make sure it was the story I wanted them to hear. They needed to know I hadn’t broken the Goddess code. She was the team captain, and regardless of our friendship, she played a management role.

“That kind of sucks,” she whispered.

“Why is that? You said I could lose my job.”

She giggled. “Because Sam Hickson is fucking hot.”

I closed my eyes, inhaling a deep breath. She had no fucking idea how true that was.