“Hell yeah!” I high-fived him and slapped his ass. Hell, I wanted to kiss him, but…later. We had plenty of time for celebratory blowjobs after the game.
“Good job out there, Thompson.” Coach slapped Malik’s shoulder and then focused on me. “If we’re ahead by three touchdowns, I’ll let you play.”
“You will?” My eyes grew wide. Even when Malik was tearing it up? That meant he saw something in me.
“I will.” He faced Malik. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Of course not. He’ll do great, and I want to see him play today.” He side-hugged me, our shoulder pads knocking together.
“You two have a great dynamic. I wish more players were like you.” Coach paced down the sideline, shouting to someone as Dickens kicked the extra point.
We were aheadby two touchdowns, with only ninety seconds remaining in the first half. One more and I’d play. Sitting on a stationary bike, I warmed up my legs in preparation.
I watched the next play. With the offense on the field, James had switched to a passing game, giving Bailey the ball a few times.
The center snapped the ball, and James stepped back, his head swiveling, looking for an opening.
Malik was open. Fuck, would he throw him the ball? As my gut clenched, I straightened on the bike, my hands leaving the handlebars.
James threw a tall spiral.
Jumping with his arms outstretched, Malik grabbed it from the air and came down.
An NAU lineman rushed him from behind, knocking him to the ground and toppling onto him.
“Fuck!” Malik lay on the turf with the lineman, Rolly, punching at the ball in his arms. “Get off me.”
As the ref blew a whistle and play stopped, I hopped off the bike. That was a hard-ass hit. Was Malik okay? My gaze flicked between Malik, to Coach and then to our trainer.
Grabbing his bag, the trainer sprinted onto the field, where Malik rolled onto his back and stilled.
“What the hell?” Was he hurt? With my hands planted on my hips, I paced the sideline, attempting a closer look at the scene on the field. I could kill that fucker, Rolly. If I ended up on the field with him, maybe I’d have time to give him a hard hit.
Everyone took a knee.
Fucking hell. He got hurt. I fell to one knee, next to Coley.
“Looks like his ankle.” Coley pursed his lips and swung his gaze to mine. “If he can’t walk this off, you’re going in.”
I cut my gaze to his. “Shit.” My heart kicked against my ribcage. This wasn’t how I wanted it to play out. If they took him to the hospital, how the hell could I keep my head in the game to play my best?
As Malik sat up, the trainer tested his ankle, moving it in a circle while Malik grimaced.
The trainer helped Malik stand while he held his injured leg off the ground and hobbled to the sideline.
“Moore, you ready?” Coach Barlow stepped to me, his eyes narrowed. “Just get us to halftime.”
“Yes, Coach.” I passed Malik on my way out and stopped at him. “You okay?”
“I will be. Make me proud, Moore.” He held his fist out, and I bumped it.
Fuck, I didn’t want to leave him. “I’ll see you after the game. Do what they tell you.” With my throat tightening, I sped to the huddle, James eyeing me with his gloved hands resting on his hips. I had big shoes to fill.
The next play was a pass to Bailey, while I focused on tackling Rolly and keeping another lineman away from James. I spied Rolly, the dick who injured Malik, and rushed into his space, grabbed him around the waist and tossed him to the ground.
While sprawled on his back, Rolly stared at me.
“That was for Thompson,” I said. There, I’d gotten a piece of him at least. My gaze flicked to the clock as it ran out, and I raced off the field. I had to see Malik. I just had to.