A player caught up to him from behind and threw himself toward Dylan’s back, but as if he had eyes in the back of his head, Dylan swerved right and avoided him by inches. I jumped up and down like a giddy little school girl. “Yes! Yes!” All caught up with the roaring crowd now, I was about to come out of my skin when someone came out of nowhere and tried to block him. Dylan jumped to the side before the guy could do anything, and he ran the last five yards without another player hunting him down. They were too slow for him. My cheeks hurting from smiling so damn hard, I jumped up and down as I watched my buddy score his third touchdown of the night.
He was amazing.
My hands shaking a little, I lifted my camera up, ready to photograph the joy on his perfectly chiseled face if he took his helmet off, but instead of letting his teammates tackle him down like they had before, he dodged every single one of them like they didn’t exist for him and ran straight back to the fifty yard line, ignoring every player and non-player pouring onto the field. I followed him with my eyes to see where he was going and watched as he stopped and dropped to one knee in front of JP, who looked like he was having a little trouble standing upright with his crutches. Out of nowhere, Chris appeared right next to Dylan and dropped to his knee as well.
Holding my breath, I lifted my camera a little higher, my fingers itching to capture just a second of their moment. Then, one by one, all the players on the field kneeled in front of their teammate, a few behind Dylan and Chris, a few to their right.
Before the chanting started, I ran toward the mouth of the tunnel, came to a quick stop, and lined up with JP to the left so I could have Dylan right in the middle of my shot. I focused on Dylan’s hard, unyielding, sweaty face and took the shot that would become one of my most cherished photos.
When it all stopped, I was still standing in the exact same spot, rooted in place.
Dylan got up and went to his friend. Whispering something in his ear, he carefully pulled JP to himself and they gave each other one of those manly hugs. I was having a really really hard time holding back my tears. When the rest of his team swarmed around their injured teammate, Chris included, Dylan’s dark blue eyes met mine, piercing me with his gaze.
As he broke off from the crowd, I slowly lowered my camera and watched him stalk toward me, our eyes never losing contact. He covered the distance between us in no time. When he was standing right in front of me, I stared up at him, just as out of breath as he was, if not more. On top of that, I could feel my hands shaking ever so slightly as I tried not to lose the smile I’d plastered on my face.
Calm your tits, Zoe. It’s nothing more than an adrenaline rush. He is still your friend.
“Who is he?” were the first words out of his mouth.
My smile faltered. “What?”
“Number four.” I must have looked as clueless as I felt because he waited for an answer from me before continuing. “Trevor Paxton—you were in his arms.”
Snorting, I relaxed and my smile tipped my lips up again. I’d been right before—he was jealous. Just the realization eased something in my chest. “My friend from Phoenix. We grew up in the same neighborhood, same high school and everything. Strictly friends.”
At my words, his shoulders dropped down slightly. “Okay. Okay, that’s good.”
I nodded in quick jerks and tried not to grin. Yeah, it was good.
His eyes bored into mine and his jaw clenched. “You’re not looking away. Why are you not looking away?”
I ignored his words and lost the battle with my lips. I smiled big, teeth and everything. “You were amazing, Dylan, really freaking amazing.” Standing in front of me in all those pads, he looked so intimidating, so big.
His frown smoothed out completely and he gave me a boyish smile. “Yeah?”
My eyes dropped to his lips for a few seconds as I took in that beautiful, surprised smile—another one to add to the list.
I wish he was mine, I thought as I lifted my eyes back up.
I smiled even bigger, if that was possible. “Yep.”
One of the coaches ran past us, breaking our little huddle. Dylan grabbed my arm and shuffled me back a few steps until I was almost against the wall, bringing us closer.
“Now I understand all the hype,” I continued before he could say anything else. “I feel a little light headed, like I’m a drunk on the game. You guys were amazing.” Another winning—or losing, depending on where you stood—smile from me. “I admit, I know practically nothing about football, and I only watch it on TV for twenty minutes tops before I get bored, but it was different being here. I’m not sure you’d call it fun since you’re the one being chased and occasionally tackled, but I loved it. I didn’t like seeing you get tackled like that, of course, but you know what I mean. It was almost better than watching you work out in the kitchen—almost.” I paused to take a breath. I was awestruck, and I didn’t mind him seeing that in my face. “I want to do it all over again, right now. You were really great, Dylan.”