Slammed #4 (The Slammed Romance Series - Book #4) by Claire Adams Read Free Book Online Page A

cheering for a single guy and probably hoping to get invited to his
hotel room at the end of the night.
    I started to fidget as the pre-game dragged on;
dance teams for both sides were doing routines, there were the mascots to
watch, and I wondered just how long it would take for the enormous stadium to
clear once the game was over. Jess was already having a good time, chatting up
a guy who was seated near us, teasing him about getting her a beer and a hot
dog because she was a poor, broke, college student who came here on my charity.
I tried not to laugh too obviously at her ruse and instead focus on what was
going on around me. When is this game
even going to start? I thought, with more than a little impatience. More than anything, I wanted it to be over, the victory handed to
one of the teams so I could get back to the hotel room and spend the next
several hours dreading the interviews I would have to do—dreading having to
interview Zack.
    The teams ran out—ours first, unlike the home games
I had covered. I tried to keep myself from looking for him, but in an instant,
I spotted Zack running out with his team mates, his away jersey spotless and
vivid.
    “He’s not looking too bad,” Jess commented between
cheers for our team.
    They started their warm ups and I tried not to watch
Zack’s every movement as I caught a few pictures for the article; I tried—I
really tried—to make sure I was getting a fair sample of the whole team in
their exercises.
    They took to the sidelines and the other team came
onto the field, looking just as energetic and just as strong. If nothing else,
I thought, it would definitely be a good game—there would be no shutouts in
this match. The other team’s crowd cheered while our side booed, and my heart
was pounding. I don’t care if we win, I thought to myself; it would be nice if we did—my interviews the next day with
the different members of the team would go a lot more smoothly if they weren’t
all mourning their loss of the game—but on a personal level, it didn’t bother
me at all. I don’t care if we win, but
please don’t let Zack get injured.
    The entire crowd on both sides watched with bated
breath as the coaches went out for the coin toss. Even though it happened at
every game, there was a definite tension in the moment that was gone from other
games I’d gone to . I caught as many pictures as I
could of the two coaches walking up to the center of the field, waiting for the
ref, and then getting the result. The flip went to the other team, and they
cheered loudly enough to almost deafen our side.
    I settled in to watch the game as the teams took up
their positions to start. I had done my research on the team we were up
against, just as I had for the previous article I had done. They were known to
have an aggressive offense-based strategy, which was similar to our team’s
typical M.O. I wondered if Coach Bullden had managed
to turn up the heat on the defensive line, and watched with interest as the
first play started. For the whole first quarter, it seemed like our team and
the other team were feeling each other out—neither
side scored a point, but they were right on top of each other, finding ways
through the defenses, working out where the weaknesses were. Every shift in the
play—whether it was a pass, an interception, or a tackle—brought cheers up from
one side or the other, and I half-wished I had brought ear plugs with me to at
least muffle the huge amount of noise.
    The second quarter started and I found myself
watching Zack more and more. I could hear Jess flirting with the guy she was
wrapping around her little finger, but my attention was entirely on Zack. He
clearly wasn’t distracted or cracking under the pressure—he was on top of the
game, working hard, staying focused. It seemed to me like he was probably not
even remotely thinking about me, and while part of me was relieved, another
part was depressed. The second half went back and forth; we