The stadium lights blazed against the dark sky, flooding the field in gold. The bleachers groaned with the weight of Ridgewood High's entire student body, parents, alumni, and the town's football fanatics.
Friday nights in Ridgewood weren't just games. They were war.
Lila tugged on her helmet strap, nerves buzzing beneath her skin. She wasn't new to the field, but tonight felt different. Bigger. Louder.
And when her gaze flicked toward the bleachers, her stomach dropped.
They were all there.
Her dad, arms crossed, jaw like stone, wearing the same leather jacket he'd had since his own high school days. Her mom, serene but sharp-eyed, chatting with some woman beside her. And then—her brothers. All four of them, scattered through the crowd like wolves circling prey.
Tyler had warned them not to embarrass him. They ignored him.
Aiden was already heckling the ref. Jordan sat back like he owned the place, sunglasses on even though it was night. Chris leaned forward, eyes locked on the field like he was scouting for weakness. And Caleb—the youngest but still older than Lila—was grinning wide, shouting her name like she was already MVP.
"Of course," Lila muttered under her breath, tugging her helmet on.
"They came?" Harper asked beside her, jogging in place to keep warm.
"Yeah," Lila said grimly. "All of them."
"Well, hey, free cheer section?" Harper tried, grinning.
Lila shot her a look. "Cheer section or interrogation squad. Guess we'll find out."
The whistle blew.
Kickoff.
The game roared to life. Players slammed into each other, the crowd's cheers rising with every pass and tackle.
Lila locked in. She sprinted routes, caught passes, and slid out of defenders' reach like smoke. Every touchdown drove the crowd into a frenzy, her brothers roaring louder than anyone else.
But she wasn't the only star tonight.
Ethan Cole was fire. Every time he threw the ball, it cut through the air like it belonged in his hand. Every play he led made Ridgewood look untouchable. He was fast, commanding, ruthless—like he'd been born to own the field.
And every time he called her name in a play, every time his eyes flicked to hers before the snap, it felt deliberate. Like a claim.
She hated how it made her pulse skip.
Fourth quarter. Ridgewood leading by two touchdowns.
Ethan called the play.
"Lila," he said, voice sharp, commanding. "You're with me."
She lined up, heart hammering. The crowd was deafening. Tyler gave her a quick nod, signaling trust. The ball snapped.
Ethan dodged, faked, then launched it deep—straight toward her.
She ran. Fast, focused, refusing to think, just move. The defender was on her heels, but she leapt, arms outstretched. The ball smacked into her hands, solid, perfect.
Touchdown.
The stands erupted. Fireworks cracked above.
Her brothers screamed like maniacs, standing on the bleachers, shoving each other around in wild celebration. Her dad even cracked the smallest smile.
Lila yanked off her helmet, chest heaving, sweat dripping. For one moment, pure pride surged in her veins.
Then Ethan was there.
He strode across the field, eyes locked on her, ignoring Lukas, ignoring Tyler, ignoring everyone. He stopped in front of her, too close, smirk curling his lips.
"Perfect," he said low, only for her. "You were made for me."
Her breath caught. She wanted to snap back, to shove him away, but the crowd swallowed them, cheers thunderous. And for a terrifying second, she wondered if he was right.
The game ended in victory. Ridgewood swarmed the field, students rushing down, everyone celebrating. Lila was dragged into hugs, high-fives, and congratulations.
But when she finally slipped free, trying to head toward the locker room, Ethan was waiting in the tunnel.
Of course he was.
She stopped short, heart still racing. "Move."
He didn't. He leaned against the wall, helmet tucked under one arm, smirk lazy but eyes sharp. "You killed it tonight."
"Thanks. Bye." She tried to brush past.
He caught her wrist.
"Don't," she snapped, yanking—but his grip tightened, firm but not painful.
"Relax," he murmured. "Just wanted to say…" His gaze dropped to her lips, then back up. "…you look good under the lights."
Her chest squeezed. "Ethan—"
"Lila!"
Her stomach sank. She turned.
There they were. Her brothers.
All four. Standing at the end of the tunnel like a wall of muscle and menace.
And they'd seen everything.
Ethan didn't flinch. Didn't drop her wrist. He just smirked, eyes never leaving hers.
"You've got guard dogs," he said softly. "Cute."
Her pulse thundered. "Let me go."
Finally, he did—but slow, deliberate, like it was his choice.
"See you soon, sunshine," he murmured before walking away, brushing past her brothers without a flicker of fear.
The air around them crackled. Her brothers' glares could've set the turf on fire.
"Lila," Aiden said, voice dangerous. "What. The. Hell."
And suddenly, victory didn't taste so sweet.