SCORE (A Stepbrother Sports Romance)(9)

We sat down, and the bleachers filled up fast. People were really riled up, and a lot of students from the rival team had come. Many people were drunk or drinking heavily, and by halftime, Maggie had managed to score us some alcohol, too.

After the halftime show, Maggie and I watched as a small fight broke out a few rows below us. Within seconds, the small fight turned into an all-out riot. Fights erupted around us, and Maggie yelled as a guy knocked into her. I shoved him off her and yelled, “Hey! Watch it.”

The guy turned to me and bellowed, “What is your problem?”

I screamed as the guy shoved me hard, and I fell and hit my head on the seat behind me. I was shocked, reeling in terror as I tried to scramble out of the way. Everything was happening so fast—Maggie screamed, and the guy raised his fist to punch me. I froze in fear and did nothing to defend myself. I heard a loud smack as a fist smashed into his face. Blake, in his uniform, his helmet abandoned in the aisle, had punched the guy who shoved me.

Maggie helped me up. Around us, people were breaking up the fights. She escorted me from the bleachers and began to panic, looking at my head and babbling about calling an ambulance.

“Maggie, I’m fine,” I said quickly, searching the crowd for Blake. “Let’s get Blake and get out of here. The game is definitely over, and I’m sure the police have been called.”

The whole thing seemed surreal. There were students everywhere, and some of them looked as if they were badly hurt. I finally spotted Blake again and waved at him. He hurried to me, breathless, and said, “Are you okay?” His gaze was intense and full of concern.

“I’m fine,” I said, nodding. “Let’s get out of here.”

The three of us pushed through the crowd to the parking lot and managed to leave the school with no more incidents. Blake drove quickly to Maggie’s house, and she looked at me and said, “I’ll call you later. That was so crazy. I hope your head gets better.”

“Talk to you later.” I gave her a hug, and she got out of the back seat.

As we drove home, I kept looking at Blake, grateful he had no visible wounds. When we arrived, I stopped him before we entered the house. “Thank you for stopping that guy,” I said, giving him a genuine smile.

“Don’t worry about it. It was my fault you were even at the game in the first place.”

I noticed an odd trace of guilt in his eyes. “Hey,” I said quickly, placing my hand gently on his arm. “This is not your fault. Seriously, I’m okay.” He nodded, and I asked, “How did you even notice that so quickly with all the chaos?”

He shrugged. “Must have been luck that I saw you guys.”

I smiled, wondering if he had been looking at me throughout the game. I pushed the thought from my head and returned his smile. “Thanks, Blake.”

We agreed not to tell our parents what had happened, not wanting to cause them unnecessary grief or stress. As we headed upstairs, I spared Blake a wistful glance. He may pretend to be a bad guy, but he really can be sweet, I thought. I knew I’d sleep soundly that night—the week had exhausted me. As I drifted off, I wondered if life with Blake would always be this insane.

***

I woke up the next day, excited about the relaxing Saturday. I had slept in until noon, and Debbie made delicious pancakes when I drifted lazily downstairs. Dad and Debbie invited me to go with them to the park, but I turned them down politely, wanting to stay home and have a peaceful day.

After I greedily ate an entire stack of pancakes, I headed upstairs to take a shower. I saw Blake’s bedroom door was open. I peeked my head in and saw Blake, shirtless, examining himself in the mirror. Even though I had seen him without a shirt on before, I still felt a compulsion to admire his body. The familiar pang of need burned as I watched him.

I distanced my attraction by thinking about his narcissism, but I blinked when I saw a large, dark bruise beneath his ribcage. I gasped instinctively, forgetting I hadn’t intended to let him know I was there. His head jerked up as I walked in. “Did that happen to you last night?”

“It’s fine. It really doesn’t hurt that bad.”

I walked closer to him and touched the area around it lightly as I examined it. I looked up at him. “I’m so sorry.”

He smiled at me. “Seriously, it’s fine.”

I nodded and looked around, since I’d never been in his room before. It was cleaner than I expected. His bed was made neatly, and everything seemed organized. I noticed a large display case of trophies on the wall. “Wow,” I breathed, impressed. “You have a ton of trophies.”

Blake looked at them and shrugged. “They’re pretty easy to get, actually,” he commented modestly.

I turned to leave. Part of me wanted desperately to stay, but my head protested so loudly that staying was foolish. “Okay. Sorry to bother you.”

“Alyssa?” he called, his voice soft.

“What’s up?” The sound of my name on his lips made my heart skip a beat.

“I need your help with something.” He was practically mumbling, his voice was so quiet, and his gaze was focused intently on the floor.

“What?”

“I’m failing my classes, and if I don’t get my GPA up, I’ll be kicked off the team.” His voice was low and sheepish. “I was wondering if you would… uh, help me study and get my grades up… or whatever.”