Intercepted (Page 36)

“I could never.” I pull out Gavin’s favorite move and squeeze her hand. “It’s not your fault they’re bitches.”

“I don’t want you to think I sat there while they rattled off bullshit and I didn’t have your back.” She sits up straight and looks me in the eyes. “I did. I went a little crazy on Dixie and that bitch Madison. I left early, and I told Dre I might not go back.”

“No. Go back. The children’s hospital event is coming up, and I know how much you love helping those kids. Don’t you dare stop.” I take a deep breath and lower my volume. “Freakin’ Dixie. If they’ll talk with you, they’ll talk about you. My mom always tells me that. Why do I never listen to her?”

“Because—” She starts but is interrupted by a knock on the door.

I’m not expecting anybody. Brynn had to close HERS and she’s opening tomorrow so she couldn’t come, and . . . well . . . I don’t have any other friends who would just drop by. But since the attack they haven’t found James, and even though I don’t think he’d ever actually hurt me, I’m still on guard more than normal.

“Who is it?” I ask, ignoring Naomi’s laughter when I have to stand on a footstool to see out of the peephole.

“Me,” Gavin says just as I verify his identity.

I jump off of the stool and kick it to the side, unlocking the door as fast as I can.

The players spend the night in hotels, even the night before home games. I think it’s stupid, but I guess it’s so the coaches can keep tabs on the grown men they’re paying millions of dollars to catch a ball. They have a strict schedule and a curfew, so I’m more than a little shocked to see Gavin here.

“Hey!” I kiss him when the door opens all the way. “What are you doing here?”

“This.” He puts his hands under my ass, lifts me up, and starts kissing me again.

“Holy shit,” I say, out of breath and dizzy when he puts me back on my feet. “What was that for?”

“It’s our first home game with you as my girl. I needed a good luck kiss before I went to bed.” He leans in for a quick kiss. “I’ll call you before the game tomorrow.”

Before the last two away games, he’s called me from the locker room right before he takes the field. The calls aren’t long, but they’re enough to make my heart skip a beat every time I see his name on my caller ID.

“Sounds good. I’ll be waiting for it.”

“Tell Dre he’s in the dog house,” Naomi says, alerting Gavin of her presence for the first time. “He’s never snuck out to kiss me.”

“Hey, Naomi.” Gavin waves to her. “I’ll let him know.”

He glances around my messy, nail polish smelling, crystal covered apartment and when he looks back at me, his eyes are dancing with laughter.

“I like the shirt.” He bends downs and whispers in my ear, “I like it on the floor too. Let’s put the shirt back there as soon as we come back.”

I blush scarlet, and he kisses me on the cheek and turns to leave.

“Bye, babe. Later, Naomi,” he yells before the door closes behind him.

“Damn girl,” Naomi tells me after I slide down the door and onto the floor. “You’re in so deep.”

Tell me something I don’t know.

Twenty-five

I walk into the stadium ready for battle.

Because Naomi felt guilty for being the bearer of shit news, we walk in together, Naomi wearing Mustangs gear for the first time ever. We’re pumped about being together again for football Sunday. Unfortunately for us though, it doesn’t last long.

“Naomi!” Dixie cries out across the wide, crowded concourse as soon as we walk in. “Don’t you look all sparkly and festive!”

“Dixie,” Naomi says without smiling.

Naomi might not like conflict, but when she’s thrown into it, she’s not backing down. I guess Dixie didn’t know that about her. Too bad, so sad.

“Oh. Marlee! I didn’t even see you.” Dixie aims her bright smile at me when Naomi doesn’t say more. “Are you using Naomi’s extra ticket?”

I knew Naomi wasn’t lying, but having Dixie standing in front of me, pretending like she doesn’t know Gavin and I are together, still feels like a slap in the face.

“No, she’s using mine,” I lie. I was totally using Nay’s, but only because Gavin’s tickets weren’t in section 112 and do I look like a traitor? “Gavin has better seats.”

I take more than a little bit of joy watching her jaw drop at how easily I bring up Gavin.

“Oh that’s right. I forgot you’re seeing him now,” she says. “Don’t you just move on faster than a pig in heat?”

What the hell? I don’t even think that’s a real saying. I think she just called me a pig in heat!

“I wasn’t looking.” I make a mental note to tell Gavin about this later. “But have you seen the man? When Gavin Pope pursues you, it’s hard to keep your defenses up. I could only let him send flowers to my house and work so many times before I gave the poor guy a break.”

“Well aren’t you lucky? Catching two player’s eyes . . . from the same team and everything. I wonder what the odds of that are?”

All right, enough of this shit. I’m a grown-ass woman, not some scared fifteen-year-old trying to get a seat at the cool girl’s table. Hell, I’m the freaking cool girl. She can’t sit with me!

“I think if you were to ask Gavin, he’d tell you he’s the lucky one. You know, Dixie, I might not have gone to Bible study with you, but I still know god doesn’t like ugly. You’re better than this. Petty isn’t a good look.” I look over to Naomi, who’s biting her lip so hard, I’m surprised she’s not bleeding. “Ready to go to our seats?”

“Yup,” she says.

And without either of us acknowledging Dixie again, we walk away.

“Holy shit. That was epic!” Naomi says when we’re out of earshot from Dixie.

“One down, too many to count to go.” I look at her with wide eyes. “Let’s hope I can keep this up.”

“I got your back. I already told Dre we’re staying until Gavin comes out.” She pulls me to a stop at the concession stand with nachos. “No way I’m leaving you in the lion’s den today.”

* * *

• • •

AFTER HUGGING LENNY—who pretends not to be happy to see me, but is soooo happy to see me—we make it to her seats. Gavin’s having an amazing game, the people around us are awesome, and the weather is surprisingly warm for it almost being December. We both have a great buzz going and decide the best way to keep it is to avoid the family room at halftime.

Everything is going so well, I should’ve known something had to go wrong.

It’s the beginning of the fourth quarter.

The Cowboys have the ball. They’re down by two touchdowns and getting desperate to put some points on the board.

Their quarterback—not as skilled or good looking as my QB—decides to go for a long pass. Dre’s guarding their wide receiver. They jump into the air at the same time and nobody can tell who’s going to catch the ball. Then, out of nowhere, a Cowboys player charges Dre, slamming him back to the ground with a crash so violent, the entire stadium lets out a unison gasp.