The afternoon sun turned Ridgewood's football field into a furnace. The players were sweating through their pads before practice even began, the smell of turf and adrenaline thick in the air.
Lila tied her braid tighter, trying to ignore the watchful glare boring into the side of her head. She didn't even have to look to know it was her brother, Tyler. He was never subtle.
"Stay close to me today," Tyler muttered as they jogged side by side.
She shot him a flat look. "This is football practice, not babysitting duty."
"Call it whatever you want." His jaw tightened. "But I saw the way Cole was looking at you."
Her stomach flipped, not because of Ethan, but because she knew her brother. If Tyler said something like that out loud, it meant trouble.
And right on cue, a voice slid into the space between them. Smooth, confident, impossible to ignore.
"Why so tense, Hart? I take good care of my receivers."
Ethan Cole. Helmet tucked under his arm, dark eyes locked on her like she was the only person on the field.
Lila kept walking, refusing to react. Ignore him, Lila. Don't give him what he wants.
But of course, Tyler reacted. His shoulders squared, voice sharp. "Back off, Cole."
Ethan smirked, unbothered. "Relax. I'm just making sure she's comfortable. Isn't that what a good quarterback does?" His gaze flicked back to her, searing. "I always protect what's mine."
That made her stop cold. She turned, meeting his eyes with all the ice she could muster.
"I'm not yours."
For a split second, his smirk faltered. Then it came back, sharper. "Not yet."
Tyler lunged a step forward, but the coach's whistle cut through the tension. "Positions! Move it, boys!"
Lila exhaled and jogged away before either of them could say more.
Practice was torture. Every drill felt like a tug-of-war she hadn't signed up for. When Ethan called plays, his eyes followed her like a magnet. When she ran routes, Tyler hovered too close, "accidentally" blocking her path more than once.
The team noticed. They always noticed.
"Yikes," Zane muttered to Lukas. "Quarterback's looking at Hart's sister like she's the end zone."
"And Hart looks like he's ready to murder him," Lukas replied.
During scrimmage, it exploded.
Ethan barked the call, eyes burning into her as he released the ball. She sprinted downfield, focused only on the spiral heading straight for her hands—until Tyler shoved into her lane, colliding with her hard enough to knock her to the turf.
The ball hit the ground. So did she, grass scraping her palms.
"What the hell, Tyler?" she snapped, shoving herself up.
Before her brother could answer, Ethan was there, ripping off his helmet and shoving Tyler back. "What the hell is your problem, Hart?"
"My problem is you," Tyler growled, shoving him right back. "Stay the hell away from my sister."
"She's not your property," Ethan shot back, voice low and dangerous. "And she sure as hell isn't yours to decide for." His eyes flicked to her, softer but possessive. "She can make her own choices."
Both of them looked at her. The entire team waited, breaths held.
Lila's pulse thundered, but not for the reasons either of them probably hoped. She was furious.
"You're both idiots," she snapped. "And for the record, I don't belong to anyone. Not to him—" she jabbed a finger at Ethan, "and not to you—" she glared at Tyler.
Then she stormed off the field, leaving the two of them stunned and the rest of the team whispering.
Later, after she'd showered and changed, she found Ethan waiting by the locker hallway. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, like he'd been there the whole time.
She almost walked right past him, but his voice stopped her.
"You catch like a dream."
She stiffened. "Save the compliments. I don't need them."
He pushed off the wall, closing the distance. His smirk was there, but his eyes… they burned. "You can deny it all you want, Lila. But I don't quit. You'll see. You're mine."
She met his gaze, cold and unflinching. "Keep dreaming, Cole. Because if you think I'll just roll over and let you claim me like a trophy, you don't know me at all."
For the first time, his smirk faltered—just slightly.
But then he leaned down, close enough that she could feel the heat of him, and whispered, "Challenge accepted."
And with that, he walked away, leaving her seething.
Lila clenched her fists, jaw tight. Overconfident, arrogant, possessive… he doesn't scare me.
But deep inside, a tiny part of her whispered the truth she hated to admit:He didn't scare her. He intrigued her.
And that was the real danger.