Hunter (Campus Kings): A Football Secret Baby Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

where I'm meant to be.
    I get us to our own twenty-yard line, but a sophomore tight
end fumbles and Tennessee almost recovers. I want to go for the touchdown, but
Coach McKay calls for the field goal. Swearing under my breath, I leave the
field. There's only so much I can do if my receivers can't even hold onto the
fucking ball.
    Tennessee answers with a touchdown, and we take the field
again. My guys seem to have shaken off the cobwebs, and I throw a perfect
spiral forty yards down the field. Adam beats the coverage, and easily catches
the rock for a touchdown. Tennessee seems to lose its momentum after that, and
we end the half up sixteen to seven.
    There's a lot of celebrating in the locker room, until Coach
McKay storms in and practically castrates us for enjoying ourselves. "Game
isn't won yet, gentleman!" he yells, then takes out a marker and begins
furiously marking up the white board to show the defense all their mistakes.
    "What's up with you?" Adam asks as we line back up
in the tunnel for the second half. "You don't seem as pumped as usual.
We're killing them."
    "Don't worry about it. Just catch the fucking
ball," I growl back.
    "Fuck, what crawled up your ass?" he mutters, and
stuffs his helmet back on his head.
    Despite Coach McKay's concern, our punt returner runs in a
poorly kicked ball for a touchdown, and I can practically see Tennessee's
energy sag from across the field. Another drive, and another touchdown. As I
head back to the sidelines and pull off my helmet, I hear the crowd roar, and
turn to see that the Jumbotron is showing a close-up of me. I smirk, and turn
to the bleachers behind me, pumping my arms up in the air until the crowd is
whipped into a frenzy.
    I grab a Gatorade and take a seat on the sidelines. There's
only a few minutes left on the clock, and a win is all but secured. I crumple
the empty paper cup in my fist and turn to toss it into the garbage can.
Tennessee's offense takes a time out, and I watch as Coach McKay takes a second
to jog over to the stands.
    I squint as a young woman bends over the barrier to exchange
a few words with him. Wait...is that? It can't be. What in the ever-loving
fuck is Coach McKay doing talking to Britt?
    I turn back to the field, my brain trying to make sense of
what I'm seeing. And I'm not the only one who's spotted them. I watch Adam
nudge Devon and point to the stands. A few of our other teammates turn to look
too, and soon there's a dozen of them looking back and ogling Britt. They whip
back around as Coach McKay comes back to the sidelines, but I see them laughing
together.
    I frown, feeling my skin prickling with some unknown
feeling. I glance back toward the stands, but I only see Britt's back retreating
up the steps.
    "Phillips! Wake up!"
    My head snaps back to see our offensive coordinator yelling
at me to take the field. Tennessee failed to convert on fourth down and I
didn't even notice. I pick up my helmet and put it on as I sprint out. Why was
Britt at a game? And how'd she score that front row seat? My linemen form a
solid wall in front of me. She didn't even seem to like football. Did she
come to see me? The center hikes the ball, and I drop back into the pocket,
but I'm getting charged by two huge Tennessee defensive tackles.
    I failed to read the blitz.
    I hit the ground, and feel the air crushed out of me by the
six hundred pounds of meat pressing me into the dirt. I groan and hear the
whistle, but the fuckers take their sweet time getting off me. I lay on the
ground for a second, and then stiffly get to my feet.
    Fuck. I just let some two-bit rushers get the jump on
me, and all because I was distracted by some fucking girl. I shake my head to
clear it. Nothing like getting sacked on national television to get me
refocused.
    Despite my fuck-up, the game ends in a blowout for us. I'm
swarmed by the press, and I give my best aw shucks smile and bland answers to
the reporters' questions. I'm already playing the long game, thinking about