Knox Masters is a quarterback's worst nightmare. Warrior. Champion. And...virgin. Knox knows what he wants--and he gets it. All American Football player? Check. NFL pros scouting him? Check. Now, he's set his sight on two things. The national title. And Ellie Campbell. Sure, she's the sister of his fellow teammate, but that's not going to stop him. Especially not when he’s convinced Ellie is the one.
...but he's never met her before.
But Ellie isn't as sure. She's trying to start a new life and she's not interested in a relationship...with anyone. Beside it's not just her cardinal rule of never dating her brother's teammates that keeps her away, but Ellie has a dark secret that would jeopardize everything Knox is pursuing.
Knox has no intention of losing. Ellie has no intention of giving in.
SACKED
Knox
Preseason
“Thunderstruck” is the song that plays before the Florida Gators and the Alabama Crimson Tide take the field. When future hall of fame John Smoltz walked out of the bullpen to close out a game for the Braves, the distinctive licks hailed down from the sound system and the crowd screamed thunder in unison.
It’s the soundtrack of the beat down the assholes in Varsity Blues receive after their trip to the strip club on Friday night, like none of them had ever seen tits or ass before. Shit, even the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders run out to the fucking song. I’ve kind of hated it, mostly because we don’t play the sick grind when we run onto the field.
Right now, as the sun peeks over the top of the stands and lays a solid ray of love on the field of my greatest accomplishments to date, and the girl sitting by me waxes poetic about the greatest game in the world, I get it.
Her.
This one.
The universe is talking to me. I don’t need lightning or a tornado throwing a car at my head. I don’t need a running back barreling through the line at top speed to drive home the message. It’s in the curve of her cheek, the delicate arch of her neck. It’s in her sweet legs and the longing in her face. She loves this place as I love it. She understands that winning at this game is about the head and the heart, not just the body.
I’d like to press her down on the concrete risers and show her exactly how well my head, heart and body work in unison. I breathe deep and try to get a grip on my rampaging emotions.
“And what about you? What are your plans?”
“I want to get a job. Not have to rely on my parents. Their...financial support is like a choker rather than a buoy.” She scrapes a hand over her head and down her ponytail. “God, I don't know why I'm telling you this.”
Because you know it’s me. That I’m the one for you, just as you’re the one for me. Like recognizes like. However, she’s not seeing it as clearly. Already I can see her withdrawing, a little embarrassed by what she found herself sharing.
“It's the seats. The air is too thin up here.” I squint down toward the field. “The reason that you like these seats up here is because you’re lightheaded and possibly unconscious during most of the game, making all the shitty plays seem like a bad dream.” I stretch out my legs. “Worse there’s no leg room.”
“You’re supposed to stand,” she chides with gentle mocking. “You can’t sit while the mighty Warriors take the field of battle.”
I laugh. When she grins back at me in return I feel winded, and not from any exercise I’ve done this morning.
“I think it’s okay to sit during timeouts,” I manage to joke. I’m glad I’m sitting down, because if I’d been standing when she threw me that smile, I’d have fallen over.
“I can’t see you resting much.”
“I may have been a headache for my mom,” I admit.
Another smile, only a little one this time, tips the corner of her lips. I guess the idea of me being a hellion amuses her. I fold my hands behind my head. From my vantage point, I appear a little under a foot taller than her.
“You been here long?”
“Long enough to get worn out watching you run the stairs.”
My routine is five times around the field, and then up and down the stadium steps for thirty minutes. She must have been here a while. At my raised eyebrow, she merely shrugs, but the light pink that shows up on her cheeks gives her away. Warmth having nothing to do with the early morning sun settles over me. I’m not the only one feeling something here.
“Running these steps is good for my heart. As a bonus it sweats the stupid out of me.” I wink but then realize I’m wearing my aviators and trucker hat so that action is for nothing. For the best, really. Winking can be a douchebag move at times.
“Do you have a lot of stupid to sweat out?” She holds back a laugh.
I grin back. “It regenerates every day.”