When I Need You (Need You #4)

Daisy popped to her feet like she’d gotten a second wind and offered her hand to help me up. “Let’s go to Sebastian Joe’s and gorge on ice cream.”

“That defeats the purpose of the past two hours, doncha think?”

“You are a real Debbie Downer, Michaels.”

I had child care covered for another hour and a half, which gave me a little wiggle room. “Ice cream on the condition that we don’t shower.”

“A whore’s bath it is.”

Raina, the first alternate, overheard that and wrinkled her nose. She’d been a pain about every little thing because of her resentment for not making the cut. As first alternate she had to attend every practice, but that didn’t guarantee she’d get to cheer at any games this season. Daisy and I joked that if any “accidents” befell other squad members, we’d suspect Raina had pulled a Tonya Harding, since she’d do anything to be on that field.

I felt a sharp sting on the back of my thigh and turned to see Marsai gripping a twisted towel. “Dammit, Marsai, that’s gonna leave a mark!”

“Aw, poor baby. I’ll kiss it and make it better,” she cooed and blew me a kiss.

“Hey ho,” Daisy said to her. “If you’re puckering up to kiss anyone’s backside, it’d better be mine.”

Marsai propped her hands on her hips. “I’ll tag-team you, sound fair?”

“As long as you do me first,” Daisy answered.

Raina pushed between us. “Coach T would write you up if she heard this conversation. It’s not appropriate. She’d expect better from her team captain.”

“Gonna tattle, little girl?” Marsai taunted.

“It’d be no less than you deserve,” she retorted, and flounced off.

“Piece of work, that one.”

“Eh. She’s all bluster and no balls,” Marsai said.

Daisy and I reached the open door to the locker room, only to have everyone going past us because apparently Coach T had called us all back.

I’d die if she forced us to do another circuit. My arms were wobbling as it was.

We stood on the field, waiting for Coach T to pull out the megaphone—she loved that damn thing—to let us know what was going on.

Just then the outer door banged open and the football team barged in.

What the hell?

I scoured the group—not because I was searching for one blond hottie in particular—but more than half of the guys were missing. A full roster of players ate up a lot of space. Training camp didn’t start for weeks and that happened in Mankato, not at the Winter Park complex.

“Why do they all look as if they were frog-marched here at gunpoint?” Daisy said.

“Same reason we do. Brutal practice.” That was when I noticed the athletic staff accompanying them wasn’t the second-tier trainers, but the ones who worked directly with the offensive coordinators and specific players.

I hadn’t seen Jensen all week. Even Calder had asked about him.

It would’ve been funny, cheerleaders on one side of the field, squaring off against players on the other side, if it hadn’t been for the waves of hostility emanating from the players’ side. The derision on a few faces didn’t help. As if we had no right to be here.

My back snapped straight. I loved the sport of cheerleading. I wasn’t a football fanatic. I’d loved cheering for basketball just as much and considered trying out for the Timberwolves team, even when it was more dance-focused than cheer. So I hated the reminder from some of the players themselves that they saw us as nothing more than a nuisance that detracted from their athletic prowess on the field.

Daisy said, “Sometimes I want to dick punch these guys when they look down their noses at us like that.”

“I’m right behind you, Daze. Go for it.”

Feedback from the speaker system had us all cringing. Then one of the managers from the corporate office—I never could keep them all straight since there were so many—stepped onto the field wearing a headset.

“Good morning. I’ll start off with the reason for this meeting. As you know, the Vikings organization purchased land in Eagan last year to build a new corporate headquarters and training center. There’s been much speculation and erroneous information in the press about the status of our plans. We’re making a major press announcement next week.” He addressed the players. “So if you’re approached by any member of any local or national news outlet for the inside scoop, you are required to answer ‘no comment.’ This is a deal that’s been sixteen months in the making, and the organization does not need one of you giving the press so much as a sound bite. Is that understood?”

Male grumbles rumbled down the sideline.

“There will be serious repercussions if anything is leaked. And trust me, we can—and will—track down the perpetrator. We have rules for a reason, rules we expect everyone to follow.”

For the briefest moment, I wondered if he’d shown up and called the team and the cheer squad together to remind us of the no-fraternization rule. My gaze immediately shot to Jensen, who appeared to be studying his cleats.

Don’t be paranoid. Clearly with the way Mr. Big Shot is addressing the players, it’s about other rule violations you aren’t aware of.

Then Mr. Corporate went all Rah! Rah! Team! as if we needed a pep talk.

Daisy exhaled a soft snoring noise, and it was hard not to laugh.

Coach T interrupted the speaker’s monologue, using the megaphone. “Respectfully, Brian, as none of the breach of protocol seems to be directed at my athletes, I’m excusing them from the remainder of this discussion.”

Brian seemed taken aback by Coach’s boldness. Evidently he didn’t know her very well. “Of course. And as I’ve hit the major talking points, I’ll turn it back over to the coaches.”

The big, burly coach yelled, “Everyone is dismissed.”

Thank god.

Access to the players’ locker rooms was on our side of the field, and as soon as they were released, they started in our direction at a dead run.

Since Daisy and I were the first in line to the tunnel—we’d been the last ones out—we waited to let them pass. But not all of them did.

Hugo, the backup center, nearly plowed us over.

Daisy mumbled about him being a big, dumb ox.

Jensen, near the front of the line of players, smiled when he saw me. Then he jogged over.

Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. What are you doing?

“Hey, Rowan, do you have a minute?”

I felt every pair of eyes zoom in on us. With surprise, curiosity and a few burning looks of hostility.

What the hell was wrong with him? We’d just suffered through a fifteen-minute lecture on the importance of rules, and he’d decided to ignore that and blatantly break them? In front of my coach as well as his?

He can ignore it because the rules don’t apply to him.

When he got close enough that only he and Daisy could overhear me, I said, “What are you doing?”

“Talking to you.”

“Don’t.”

Jensen froze. “What’s wrong?”

“We are not supposed to interact according to—”

“That’s a bullshit rule and you know it.”

“But it is a rule. Everyone is staring at us.”

He glared at anyone who met his gaze before he directed it back to me. “So?”