Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
The twelves.
I’d heard about them my whole life. Everyone had. But hearing them through the television speakers in your living room was nothing like this. The announcers and players always said how loud it was, but until you were in it, you just couldn’t understand.
Out here, in the middle of it, their energy crashed over me like a tidal wave.
Marcus was to my left and behind me one row. Our eyes caught for a brief moment, both of us already panting before we’d even started dancing. His smile was so wide it stretched his whole face, and I knew mine mirrored it.
My gaze slid to Darcy next, who was to my right, her blonde hair tumbling down in gorgeous platinum waves as she waved her pompoms together and smiled brilliantly up at the crowd. She glanced over at me, scrunching her nose with an excited shuffle of her feet.
Marcus winked at both of us right before the music started, and we all silently said our mantra.
Let’s kill this shit.
My pulse synced with the bass of the music as we snapped into the first move of the routine, and suddenly every nerve ending in my body was alive.
Every turn of my head, every flick of my hair, every sharp pop of my hips sent electricity shooting down my spine. The field lights reflected off the sequins of our uniforms like sparks flying off a live wire, and the cheers rose higher every time we hit a formation change.
This.
This was why we auditioned.
This was why hundreds of us lined up every year hoping for a chance.
Because for these few minutes on the field, you weren’t just a dancer, you weren’t just part of the game.
You were the whole damn show.
We weren’t an accessory to this sport — we were its heartbeat right along with the fans.
And God, I loved it.
I loved the way the crowd responded to us. I craved the way the lights made everything feel bigger than life. I was enamored by the way the attention wrapped around me like heat, like I could soak it in through my skin and store it somewhere deep in my bones.
For the first time in a long time, I felt… useful.
Alive.
Like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
But even as the music carried us through the routine and the roar of the twelves vibrated through the soles of my boots, there was a quiet flicker beneath the electricity.
A strange, hollow space under all the noise.
It was like the circuit had been completed — the current rushing through me, lighting everything up — but somewhere deep in the wiring, one tiny connection was still missing.
And until I figured out what it was… the buzz would never quite feel whole.
When we filed off the field with the crowd going wild, I waved my pompoms together and struggled to catch my breath. My heart was pounding in my ears, lungs strained, but I was so giddy I practically floated to our spot on the sidelines.
And as it happened, I floated right past Braden Lock.
I knew it was him by the number on his chest, by the build of his body, by the way he carried himself through warmups and stretches in the familiar way he had all preseason. My favorite parts of him were hidden beneath his helmet, but I saw his gaze through the mask — laser focused, in it to win.
I willed him to look at me, as if I had some kind of power over the universe. If I did, then it was certainly broken. I’d been trying to coyly get his attention for weeks now to no avail. It was like he decided during the preseason that I was a distraction he couldn’t afford to have.
He hadn’t so much as looked at me since.
And in my gut, I knew that was likely the case. He’d told me as much. I wouldn’t claim to know everything about him, but I knew enough to understand why football mattered so much to him, why this career weighed more than I originally thought. Maybe I’d been a little judgmental; assuming he was rich, assuming he was just another cocky athlete playboy, assuming he would want to get in trouble just as much as I did.
Braden Lock didn’t fit inside the box I’d tried to shove him into.
Sadly for me, it only made me more drawn to him than before.
Blinking, I focused on my own job, the one I’d auditioned for and fought so hard to get. I waved at fans, joined in with my team when our captain started a dance, and felt that energy buzzing through me like a current as we drew nearer to kick off.
When I turned to face the field with the rest of my team to watch the first play, my eyes floated to Braden again.