36. Jase

Ipick up the pace, walking fast down the private hallway that leads to the owner's suite at the stadium. Since we technically have no owner right now, I had Rex make some arrangements with the holding company to get us some seats for the first round of the playoffs.

"We've got about fifteen minutes before we have to get down to the locker room."

Lucas keeps up with my stride, a bottle of his frou-frou water clutched in his hand. He holds it out to me, but I wave his hand away. "Thanks, I'll take regular old tap."

"That shit'll kill you." He takes a long gulp and twists the cap back onto it.

I snicker and pull out my phone to type ‘alkaline water' into the search bar on Google. "Oh, shit, listen to this. ‘Artificial alkaline water often contains fewer beneficial minerals than advertised, and drinking too much of it may leave drinkers deficient in minerals. Additionally, many manufacturers don"t decontaminate the water to the same level they would regular drinking water, which can leave pathogenic contaminants behind.'"

Lucas stops short, his mouth falling open when I hand him the phone. "Get the fuck out of here."

"Wait, the Boy Scout didn't research his brand of bullshit water before swearing by it?" I shake my head. "Tsk-tsk. I'm disappointed in you."

He shoves the phone back at me and tosses his bottle into a nearby recycling bin.

"You know this is the first step, right? Pretty soon, you'll be eating five lunches with me. It's gonna be all red meat, all the time. Plus, a couple of sides of fries. Definitely no bean sprouts."

"I can feel my arteries clogging already," Lucas groans.

"Don't worry." I rub a hand down his back. "I'll make sure you get plenty of exercise to keep your heart pumping just fine."

Lucas grins at me, his green eyes sparkling. "I'm going to hold you to that."

We get to the owner's suite and push open the door.

"Jase!"

The kid from outside the stadium, Josh, runs over to me, all decked out in our team colors. He's wearing my jersey, too. My heart swells when I see the stars in his eyes. A streak of ketchup on his cheek tells me he's already sampled the trays of fries on the buffet table.

I hand him one of the bags I'm carrying. When he pulls out the jersey signed by all the players, he bounces off the walls with the kind of excitement only a young kid can have. Then he throws his arms around me and hugs me tight. Like, real damn tight, and I have a pretty high tolerance for pain.

I shake his father's hand. "I'm glad you called. Since it's a home game and our first playoff game in a while, I was afraid the suite would be booked. But I got the last few seats."

"Today is easily the best day of Josh's life. Thank you so much for this."

I'm actually choked up at the tears in his dad's eyes.

Doing good feels fucking awesome.

And speaking of doing good, I turn toward Lucas and the small group we were able to invite from Project Renewal. Mikey, Kevin, and Chase are there with their parents, looking like they're holding winning lottery tickets. That's when the tears start and goddamn, it's contagious.

When I hand them the bags containing their signed jerseys, my heart clenches and my nose starts to tickle.

Aw, shit, I am not gonna cry right now. I've got a game to win.

A hand lands on the back of my shoulder and I turn to see my dad standing behind me.

"You feeling good?"

"I'm great. Better since you guys chose to hang here in the suite than in the shitty seats Bryce got you."

Dad laughs as Mom walks over to us, a bright smile on her face.

"They weren't that bad," she says, leaning in for a kiss. "But with the wind chill out there, I'd rather stay in here than get frostbite."

Dad nods at my splint, a concerned look in his eyes. "Is that thing gonna hold you together?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Nothing is gonna tear me apart today."

"It's a big one for you guys. I can't tell you how proud I am to be here, watching both my boys on that field."

Mom gives me a tight hug. I breathe in her familiar perfumed scent.

If I've ever felt Kyle's presence, it's right now. A smile stretches across my lips. He's in here with us and I know he'll be out on that field, too. He's part of this day, part of the reason why Bryce and I are both here. And he's a huge part of the reason why my dad and I were able to finally reconcile.

He'll always be with us.

Mom pulls away with a gasp. "Lucas, it's such a pleasure to finally meet you."

My heart pounds a little faster when he flashes that million-watt smile at my parents, my eyes immediately jumping to my dad. He looks a little starstruck, which actually makes me giddy.

Thank fuck.

This is a huge step, especially for my dad, and to see him talking and laughing with Lucas makes my heart so full, it might just explode out of my chest.

I can't remember the last time I smiled this much with my family in the same room.

The sense of belonging overwhelms me to the point where a lump forms in my throat. Too much goddamn emotion. I need to get my head screwed on straight for the game. All the mushy shit can wait until after we beat Oakland.

I clear my throat. "Guys, we'll see you after the game. It's time to go."

"One thing," Dad says, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a tarnished silver medal and holds it out to me. "This was Kyle's. It's St. Sebastian, the patron protector of football players. I want you to carry it with you on the field. He'll protect that arm of yours."

My throat tightens and I know I need to get out of here before I lose my shit. "Thanks," I mutter, clutching it in my hand. "This means a lot."

Dad nods, averting his eyes for probably the same reason I am. "You're welcome," he says gruffly. "Good luck."

I drop a kiss on Mom's forehead again, grab Lucas's hand, and barrel out the door of the suite.

Once the door closes, Lucas pulls back, slowing me down.

"Hey," he says. "You okay?"

It takes a second for me to speak, and my voice cracks a bit when I finally do. "I'm more okay now than I've ever been." I brush my lips against his. "Can we go and kick Oakland's ass now? I'm in the mood to throw down with anyone standing in our way of getting a Super Bowl ring."

"Including your brother?"

I chuckle. "Especially my brother."

It'sthe first play of the game. Oakland receives the kickoff, and Bryce launches a sixty-eight-yard touchdown pass down the field, right into the waiting arms of a running back. Oakland scores the first touchdown of the game and of course, they get the extra point just to hammer home the early victory.

Goddammit, is my brother's arm fucking bionic?

The guys on our offensive line are already showing signs of distress and the game has barely begun. Oakland is up by seven within the first minute of the game. By the end of the first quarter, Oakland has scored another touchdown, plus they kicked a field goal. We still lag behind with a big fat zero on the scoreboard. Coach Greaves paces the sidelines, his hands in the air as Oakland runs rings around us.

Gabe walks over to me. He takes a long gulp of water."It's time to turn things around, Maxwell. You ready?"

"Fuck, yeah."

We run back onto the field. But the second quarter goes a lot like the first with us trying to hold off Oakland. Luckily, they don't score. But neither do we, and if we don't pick up ground now, the morale of the team will unravel faster than a cheap rug.

The offensive coordinator calls in the next play and Gabe lays it out in the huddle. With a two-minute warning, the ball is kicked to us. We charge toward the end zone until we're on the third yard line.

Seven seconds left in the quarter.

Davis Montell, the center, hikes the ball to Gabe. He runs backward and launches a screen pass directly at me. I tear down the field toward the end zone just as one of the Oakland linebackers collides into me. I crash to the ground right inside the end zone, cradling my splinted arm, the football still in my grasp.

Gabe and Lucas run over to me, followed by Bryce.

"I'm good, I'm good." I lie still, sharp breaths quaking my lungs. Staring up at my brother, I smirk. "That all you guys have? You better bring it, man. When we beat your asses, I wanna be sure you were on your A-game, yeah?"

Bryce rolls his eyes and laughs as I stagger to my feet. "Prick," he calls out over his shoulder as he jogs back to the sidelines.

Gabe claps me on the back. "You sure that arm is okay?"

"If it was hanging by a thread, I'd never tell you. We're winning this game, Kelly. And I'm not gonna miss a second of it."

"You're too stubborn for your own good." Lucas sighs.

"If you're just figuring that out now, then maybe you're not as smart as I thought you were." I wink and adjust my helmet.

Scoring that touchdown felt good, I won't lie. But my arm is fucking killing me, too. I tried to play it off the best I could, but judging by the way Lucas and Colin are looking at me, I know I didn't fool anyone.

I don't care. It may hurt a little now, but I'll grin and bear it like I've done with my leg for years. There's no way I'm getting pulled from this game.

No way, no how.

Never.

Going into the third quarter, the score is 17-7. The team is starting to get its groove back after my touchdown. The fans cheer and hoot from the sidelines, my vision a sea of red and white.

I hear my name, and it makes me smile so huge. They want this victory, and I wanna give it to them.

The battle continues through the third quarter. When we get the ball, Gabe makes a great throw to one of the running backs, Larson Gary. He tears down the field toward the end zone. I take off after him to protect and Lucas is on his other side. Larson takes it right and Lucas makes a path for him, bodying the opposing players until Larson makes it into the end zone.

"Holy shit, we can actually pull this off," I say to Lucas as we take our positions on the line in the fourth quarter.

"We're going to pull it off," Gabe says, slapping the top of my helmet. "It's seventeen to fourteen, guys. Let's go!"

The next play gets us to the fifteen-yard line. Gabe launches the ball and I jump up to catch it. One of Oakland's linebackers makes a leap at me, but I manage to stiff arm him, which hurts like a bitch. I don't think about the pain. I just run like my life depends on it.

And it does.

When I make it into the end zone again, the stadium erupts into screams when I run back to the sidelines for a time-out.

The excitement level is through the roof. We're beating Oakland. I sneak a look across the field at the opposing team. Bryce's helmet is off, his face bright red, jaw tight. He's pissed. My brother is an all-star, all-American quarterback who doesn't take failure lightly, especially at the hand of his younger brother.

They're desperate, which means they're going to try anything to score in the last minutes of the game. Oakland needs a touchdown to score. A field goal won't cut it. Once we're back on the field, Bryce launches the ball everywhere. They reach our forty-yard line with fifteen seconds left in the game. Bryce scrambles away from the entire Crusader defensive line, marching down the field. Out of nowhere, a safety takes off after him, tackling him on the four-yard line.

And the Crusaders win the first fucking round of the playoffs. Mother of God, we actually did it. My arm hurts but the pain is dulled by the elation of my biggest fucking victory.

I tear off my helmet and search for Lucas. He finds me in the crowd of players and runs toward me, capturing me in a huge hug. Steve Henry, the safety that saved the game, is on the shoulders of the guys. They carry him over to the sidelines. Ice from the coolers is dumped on him, me, Lucas, and Gabe.

I remember a few weeks ago standing back to watch the guys celebrate their win on the field. Today, I'm right in the middle of it, next to Lucas, right where I belong.

Fans spill onto the field a few minutes later. Krista, Aaron, Ella, and Nick dart toward Lucas, screaming and dancing around him. I notice Krista and Aaron exchange a few sidelong glances and I wonder if there might be a love connection in the works. I usually don't notice that stuff, but since I'm over the moon happy, now I want it for everyone.

Ella walks over to me and gives me a hug.

"You did good today," she says, her face bright pink, green eyes just like her brother's sparkling in the afternoon sunlight.

"Thanks, kid." I ruffle her hair.

Bryce walks up to me at the same time as the media pours onto the field. They circle us like birds of prey until one of them pounces.

"Jase, you had an incredible performance today, even with your injury. How was it facing off against Bryce and the Oakland Saints?"

"He's the best quarterback in the league," I say, knowing I'll get shit from Gabe later for saying that on national television. But screw it, he is. "And it was a good, fair fight. Coulda been anyone's game."

"Not today," Bryce says with a smile. "The Crusaders put it all out there for this game. Jase had the heart of a lion out there, playing despite his injury. It was their game as soon as he scored that first touchdown."

I give him a smack on the back and he pulls me in for a hug. The media goes nuts, flashes blinding me from every angle.

"I've got you, bro," Bryce mutters against my ear. "I'll always be here for you. I want you to know that."

"I do," I say, my voice tight.

He pulls away with a smile. "Drinks and dinner later. You're buying."

"Fuck yeah. Buster's?"

"You bet your ass."

I watch him walk back to his team before I'm mauled by the rest of the Crusaders again. God, it feels amazing to be back.

Then Lucas catches my eye from a few feet away, and the incredible feeling of accomplishment and victory is consumed by the rush of another emotion strictly reserved for him.

He grins at me, the light catching his eyes, making them glow like green flames. The urge to strip him out of his uniform and lick every inch of his sweaty body grabs hold, and all I have to say is thank God I'm wearing a cup right now.

What a fucking crazy turn of events that landed us here.

I used to think football was all I'd ever have, that somehow fame and fortune could make up for all that I'd denied wanting for my future.

I was so wrong.

A Super Bowl ring would be nice.

But love is the ultimate trophy.