“Tanner, breathe,” she says calmly, her hand sliding down my arm and gripping my hand. “What’s going on?”

  “The paternity test,” I tell her, my voice shaky, knowing damn well she has every right to walk away from this. I hand her my phone, watching as her brows furrow and she turns it around to look at the screen. “I’m sorry. I … I’m his father.”

  Bri sucks in a silent gasp, and I see the hurt in her eyes. She keeps her stare locked on the screen, reading over the words a million times just as I had, and a part of me wonders if it’s because it’s too hard for her to look me in the eyes. “It’s okay,” she finally says, glancing up, trying to hold herself together. “The second Rachael came to the door, we knew this could be a possibility. You’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. We just need to figure ourselves out.”

  “How the hell am I supposed to do that?” I question, keeping my voice low as to not break the news to the whole fucking school.

  Bri shakes her head, her grip tightening on my hand. “I don’t know,” she confesses, her voice breaking. “But what choice do we have? I know you, Tanner. You can’t mess this up. It’s not possible. You’re this kid’s father and you’re going to be his whole world, but right now, you have a game to get through. Focus on that and being the best fucking quarterback this town has ever seen, then when we get home, we can start working on this. Until then, just know that I love you.”

  I shake my head, my heart breaking as I confess what’s buried deep inside. “I missed the first year of my kid’s life. Fuck, I don’t even know his name.”

  She pushes up onto her tippy toes and presses a kiss to my lips. “And you’ll make up for it,” she tells me. “You don’t need to be afraid of this. You’re the most incredible, amazing person I know, and this little boy is going to be lucky to have you in his life.”

  “You sure?” I question, absolutely terrified.

  Bri nods. “I’ve never been so sure. It’s not being a father you need to fear, it’s getting home and having to tell your mom.”

  Bri’s words are like a bucket of ice water coming down over my head. “Oh fuck,” I breathe, terror like I’ve never known rocking through my chest. “She’s going to kill me.”

  “Better her than me,” Bri mutters.

  My brows furrow and I grip her chin, tilting it up until she meets my eye. “Are you okay with this?”

  She shrugs her shoulders, uncertainty in her beautiful eyes. “I just need a minute to adjust,” she admits, being honest. “But don’t worry about me. We’ll work it out together. Just go back to the locker room, kick ass in your game, and tonight, we can figure out how we’re going to make this work.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure,” she tells me. “The good, bad, and the ugly, Tanner. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Okay,” I tell her, finally able to take a deep, calming breath.

  Bri smiles up at me before squeezing my hand again. “Go,” she says before indicating to the girls crowded behind her, each of them watching with concern. “We need to find our seats, but if you don’t kick ass on that field and make me proud, then we’ll really have issues.”

  A smirk kicks up the corner of my mouth, and I drop a kiss to her lips before turning and sprinting back to the locker room, more than ready to make her proud.

  Chapter 26

  TANNER

  Sweat drips from my brow as we face the team from Haven Falls. We have eight minutes left on the clock, and that time is quickly slipping away. The first half was neck and neck, but moving into the second, my boys pulled us through, and we’ve been holding on to the lead ever since. But one minor fuck up and we could lose it all.

  We jog across the field, quickly making our way back to Coach Wyld after the Haven Falls coach called a timeout. I don’t blame them though. They need every advantage they can get right now. This game is too close not to utilize every card you’ve got up your sleeve.

  My guys look rough. They’re exhausted, but looking around, I know they still have enough gas in the tank to get us through to the end. It’s been a fast game, but we’re not done yet.

  Coach Wyld is red in the face, but it’s nothing new. I’m surprised he hasn’t lost his voice after all the yelling he’s been doing, but this is standard practice for a game night. He gives it his all, and it’s part of the reason I respect him so much.

  “Logan,” he says as we quickly huddle around, Jax jumping up from the bench to give his two cents wherever he can. “Keep doing what you’re doing. They’re fast, but they won’t be able to catch you. Work those reflexes, be ahead of the game.”

  Logan nods and Coach quickly moves on, working his way around the circle. “Bellamy, watch that footwork. Number 19’s been coming for you all night. Don’t let him take the advantage.”

  Hudson nods. “Yes, Coach,” he says, barely getting the words out before Wyld starts in on someone else. One by one, he quickly spits out his orders and I find myself lifting my gaze to the grandstand. Bri’s eyes are already on mine, and the moment her lips split into a wide, dazzling smile, I feel like I’ve been injected with the most potent drug.

  “Tanner,” Coach snaps. “Where’s your fucking head?”

  “In the game, Coach.”

  “Really?”

  Fuck. “Yes, Coach.”

  “Because it looks like it’s up in the stands with your girlfriend.”

  “No, Coach. It’s in the game.”

  His gaze narrows on me, and I know I’m going to pay for this come Monday during the afternoon training session. “That’s what I thought,” he finally says in a low tone filled with the kind of authority that has me bending to his every will.

  Knowing what’s good for me, I keep my fucking mouth shut and pay attention as he continues his way around the circle. Jax bounces at his side, desperate for a little action, though we all know he has no chance in hell.

  A bottle of water sails across our huddle, and I quickly catch it and take a sip, splashing some onto my face. As the whistle blows, Coach gives one final nod, ready to send us back onto the field, but as I turn to run back into position, one of my linebackers goes down like a sack of shit.

  “Oh fuck,” I mutter, my eyes going wide as I race toward him. “We need a medic!”

  People swarm from everywhere—our coach and the assistant coach, the first aid team, the fucking water boy, even a few people from the stands. “What the fuck happened?” Coach Wyld calls out, shoving some nosy asshole out of the way to get to his player.

  “Don’t know,” I say from my knees beside his head, jamming my fingers against his throat to check for a pulse. “He just collapsed. He’s got a pulse but it’s weak.”

  “Thank fuck,” Coach says, getting down on his other side before quickly checking him over for himself. “WHERE’S THAT MEDIC?”

  Within seconds, there’s a whole team of medics getting on their knees beside us, and I hastily move out of their way, letting them do their thing. One of them attaches a pulse ox to the linebacker’s finger while another straps a blood pressure cuff around his arm. They talk among themselves while our assistant coach does everything in his power to try and shoo the crowds away, giving my linebacker the space and privacy he deserves.

  “What’s the diagnosis?” Coach asks the senior medic as the two others heave our player onto a gurney.

  “Looks like heat exhaustion, maybe dehydration,” the medic says. “You need to put a new player in.”

  “Fuck,” Coach says, running his hand through his thinning hair as he presses his lips into a tight line. He glances over the line of reserves, knowing not a damn one of them has the skill level needed to help win this game.

  Jax is straight on his feet.

  “Hell no,” Coach grunts, shaking his head before Jax even gets a chance to plead his case.

  Jax races toward him, his eyes wide and desperate. “Come on, Coach. Put me in. You know I’ve got this,” he pleads. “You have no other option, not if you want to win this.”

  Wyld scrunches his face as if he’s actually considering this before finally realizing how fucking stupid it is. “Sorry, kid. We spoke about this.”

  “Oh, sure,” Jax grumbles. “Just hand them the win then.”

  Coach clenches his jaw, glancing back at the field. He’s running out of time. If he’s going to make a decision, it needs to be done now. “FUCK! Jax, you’re in.”

  “YES!” Jax cheers, fist pumping the air before bolting toward the field. He stops in front of me, grabs my helmet and smashes his against it as I just gape, horrified by Wyld’s decision to play him. “FUCK YEAH! Let’s do this.”

  Jax takes off at a sprint, the whole crowd roaring for him as he makes a fucking spectacle of himself, and within seconds, they’re chanting his name. “The fuck?” I hear Logan calling from across the field as I step toward Coach.

  “Are you sure about this?” I question. “One hit and he’ll be fucked.”

  Coach shakes his head. “Sorry, kid,” he says, dropping his clipboard to the bench to focus on the game. “My hands are tied. He gave me his medical clearance first thing this morning. His doctor signed off and Jax assured me he’s good to go.”

  “Medical clearance?” I question. “What fucking clearance?”

  “Not the time or place, Tanner,” he says, staring past me and to his players on the field. “Get your ass out there. If you want to undermine my authority and question my decisions as the coach of this team, you can do that after we win this fucking game. Understood?”

  Fuck.

  Anger bursts through my chest, and I reluctantly jog back into position, barely getting there with only a few seconds to spare. There’s no way Jax got clearance. He walked out of his check up a few days ago just about ready to take his doctor out. If he was cleared, he would have screamed it from the rooftops.

  Despite the chanting and cheers coming from the grandstand, one cry of outrage sounds over everything else, and I glance up to the girls, finding all of them up on their feet. Addison and Bri look like they’re about to be sick with Coach’s decision to play Jax, while Arizona looks as though she’s about to wring Wyld’s throat. Ilaria, on the other hand, has her nose buried in her phone, probably without a clue of what’s going on down here.

  Bri meets my eye, and without a word spoken between us, I know she’s begging me to watch out for Jax, and I will do my best, but trouble can happen in a split second. I can’t always be exactly where he needs me, not in such a fast-paced game.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I hear Logan cursing out his brother. “You’re going to get hurt.”

  “Lay off,” Jax says, getting into position. “I’ll be fine.”

  Logan goes to respond, but the whistle signals that the ball is back in play, shutting us all up. The ball moves from player to player, and Haven Falls quickly makes their way down field, getting a little too cocky for my liking.

  The ball is swiftly delivered into my hands and I rear back, letting the bastard fly, knowing Logan will be exactly where he needs to be. But just as he jumps to catch the ball, he’s brought back to the ground with a devastating blow, leaving the ball wide open to sail straight into the arms of Haven Falls.

  “Fuck,” I mutter, clenching my jaw and taking off again, my boys pushing themselves even harder.

  Haven Falls tries to make a run for it, but my guys are too fast, coming in hot. He dodges and weaves as the crowd roars, but his footwork is lacking and in the most humiliating moment of the whole season, he fumbles, dropping the ball.

  Jax is on it like hot cakes, catching it before it even hits the ground and taking off like a fucking rocket. He tucks the ball securely in his arms, and we all take off with him, adrenaline coursing through our veins. This is it. This is our game-winning play, and it’s about to be the biggest showstopper of the season.

  His feet slam against the grass, propelling himself further up the field, dodging and weaving like the fucking pro he is. I move into position, ready to have his back wherever he needs it, just as Riley and Hudson do the same. But there’s too many of them.

  Riley slams into one as number 19 sidesteps Hudson, getting on his nerves for the last fucking time.

  “Go, go, go,” I chant, my sharp gaze whipping side to side as he creeps closer to the end zone. He pushes himself faster and just as he goes to adjust his hold on the ball, preparing for the best touchdown of the season, three Haven Falls players come out of nowhere.

  Logan goes for one as I slam into another, but the third makes it through, crashing into Jax like a fucking freight train, his big-ass shoulder making fucking mincemeat of his stomach. The momentum of the hit has Jax flying off the ground and his agonized cry has me pulling up short, the game the furthest thing from my mind.

  I double back, my eyes widening as I watch Jax go down hard, his back slamming into the ground as the fucker comes down on top of him. “FUCK,” Jax cries as Logan and Riley start bolting toward him. I reach them first and I grip the Haven Falls guy by the back of his shirt, ripping him off Jax and throwing him aside like a fucking ragdoll as Jax lets out a pained groan, curling into a fucking ball.

  “JAX,” I shout, dropping down beside him, looking over him as the whistle signals another timeout. Jax scrambles, reaching for me and clutching onto my arm with everything he’s got, barely able to fucking breathe.

  “FUCK,” he grunts, sucking in quick, sharp pants through his teeth, agony tearing across his face. “Something’s wrong. I can’t … I … fuck.”

  He clutches his stomach as Logan’s knees slam down into the grass at his head. Logan screams for the medics, and I’ve barely had a chance to check over him before Logan’s hands are at Jax’s waist, tearing his shirt up and getting a look at the damage.

  There’s deep bruising and it’s quickly spreading across his abdomen, a clear sign of deep internal bleeding. “FUCK,” Logan grunts, panic in his eyes as he glances up at me, almost begging me to tell him this is all some kind of fucking nightmare.

  “You fucking idiot,” I berate, reliving that night all over again as I grip onto Jax’s hand. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  Tears well in his eyes from the pain. “I had to play,” he chokes out.

  “And now look at you,” Logan says. “I can’t fucking go through this again. I can’t fucking lose you.”

  “It’s … it’s just a hiccup.”

  “JAX,” Arizona screams from the sidelines, the assistant coach struggling to hold her back. Tears stream down her face, and there’s only ever been one other time I’ve seen her look so terrified. “Jax, you big fucking idiot.”

  “Shit,” Jax grunts. “She’s gonna have my balls for this.”

  “Out of the way,” the medics order, Coach Wyld racing in beside them. We all scramble back and it happens so fast. One second, he’s in agony on the grass and the next he’s being loaded into the back of an ambulance with Ari somehow at his side.

  I stand with Logan, Riley, and Hudson, watching as the ambulance pulls away, the sirens blaring through the night as the girls come crashing into us. Chanel throws her arms around Logan. “He’s going to be okay,” she promises him, but we all know that’s not a promise she can make.

  Logan shakes his head, a million different emotions swarming in his eyes. Anger. Frustration. Terror. “That should be me in there,” he spits, pulling out of Chanel’s arms. “Arizona has done nothing but fuck with his head for weeks, and now when it counts she wants to be the one by his fucking side? He’s my goddamn brother. My twin. I’m his family, not her.”

  “Logan,” Coach Wyld says, jogging to catch up to us. “I’ve spoken to your father. He’ll be on the first flight home. As for the rest of—”

  “The fuck were you thinking playing him?” Logan demands, getting in Wyld’s face. “He wasn’t cleared. Wasn’t even fucking close.”

  Coach shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Logan, but Jax gave me his clearance this morning. Said his doctor signed off on it.”

  “Bullshit,” Logan spits. “Did you call his doctor or just take Jax’s word for it? He’s dying in the back of that fucking ambulance because you played him.”

  “Logan,” I warn. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” he roars. “Don’t call people out on their bullshit when I see it? My brother is fucking dying, Tanner. Dying. He’s not taking a fucking vacation. He’ll be back in surgery, with another six months of recovery. What about college, huh? He’ll get dropped so fucking fast.”

  “Stop,” Chanel says, forcing his stare back to her. “We don’t need to be thinking about that now. All that matters is making sure Jax gets through his surgery unscathed. After that, you can point your finger all you like. For now, can we just get out of here? They’re going to need you down at the hospital. You’re his closest family.”

  Logan looks back at Coach Wyld. “You better hope he’s alright,” Logan spits before gripping Chanel’s hand and taking off toward the student parking lot.

  Coach clenches his jaw, shaking his head in disbelief, no doubt struggling with the guilt of playing Jax when he knows damn well he shouldn’t have. Hell, I even tried to warn him, but once his mind was made up, there was no going back. But I’m not fooled. Jax would have done anything to be able to play tonight. They’re both to blame, but at least Coach didn’t do it consciously. Jax knew damn well he hadn’t been cleared and went to great lengths to submit a forged clearance.

  “He just needs some time to cool off,” I tell Coach.

  “Yeah, I know,” he says before nodding toward the field. “Right, get back in there. We have four minutes left in this game and you know damn well those reserves can’t pull off this win. There’s nothing you can do for Jax right now.”

  I gape at Coach Wyld. Is he fucking kidding himself? He wants us to play right now?

  “Yes, Coach,” Hudson says before making a start for the field.