“They killed it,” she says, tapping her screen.
“They did,” I reply. “I don’t think I breathed until?—”
“After the pyramid,” Liv cuts in. “Same.”
We grin at each other, a silent acknowledgment of the hours we’ve poured into this routine, before her smile fades. “I don’t want to worry you, but I just heard management are talking about changes to the coaching team.”
My stomach dips. “What do you mean?”
“It might be nothing, but I overheard something in the tunnel from two of the execs about either making us part-time… or cutting one of us altogether.”
“They can’t.” Panic spikes hot in my chest. Is that why Ryan wanted to meet? To warn me? I ignored his request, not wanting another uncomfortable run-in.
“I swear they think all we do is wave pom-poms and smile,” Liv mutters, her frustration sharp. “They forget we choreograph, train, run fitness programs, handle recruitment, coordinate appearances, and a hundred other things. Just because the squad isn’t on the field doesn’t mean we’re not working.”
“They’re not talking about cutting the squad’s salaries, are they?” I press. “We only just won that raise, and it’s still pathetic compared to the hours the girls put in.”
Liv scrubs a hand over her face. “I hope not. Most of the girls are working eighteen-hour days as it is.”
I quickly run numbers in my head. Rent. Utilities. Groceries. Even with Liv sharing the rent for the next few months before moving out, it would be impossible to drop to part-time. I’d have to go back to juggling three jobs, something I really don’t want to do again. But this cheer squad—this dream—it’s the one thingI’ve got right. I might be single and living paycheck to paycheck, but at least I get to do what I love. I can’t lose it.
“You still staying at Chase’s tonight?” Liv asks, pulling me back to the moment.
“Yeah. Makes sense we’d be staying at each other’s places if we’re dating. And the paparazzi wait outside his apartment building on the nights after games,” I reply. “But we’re hitting The Hay Barn first. You’re still coming?”
“Sure am. Jensen’s looking forward to meeting the team.” Something in her expression shifts. She eyes me carefully, tone turning gentle. “You’re still good with this plan?”
“Of course,” I say brightly. “It’s no different from all the other times I’ve crashed in his spare room.”
Movement in the tunnel catches my eye and a second later, the team streaks onto the field. Red jerseys. Shoulder pads. White pants. Helmets gleaming. Thudding cleats. I shove the worries about my career and my future aside and focus on the game ahead.
And before that, we have our second public kiss.
Liv gives a wave before jogging over to the cheer squad just as my eyes lock on Chase. His stride is confident and easy as he moves out of the tunnel. Not onto the field like the rest of the team but walking straight for me. He meets my eyes. “Ready?” he mouths.
My stomach dips as I nod. There is nothing fake about the smile tugging at my lips at seeing Chase, especially in his number 10 Stormhawks jersey.
A moment later, he’s pulling me into his arms. His mouth brushes mine and my insides melt. The kiss is light, searching, and leaves me just a little breathless.
“Good luck out there,” I whisper as he draws away, hoping my voice sounds normal.
“See you after?” His eyes are checking mine, making sure I’m still happy with our plans.
“You promised we’d go shopping tomorrow, remember?” I say, forcing a lightness into my tone. “Not gonna miss the chance to finally get you some throw pillows. I’m thinking hot pink.”
Chase laughs. “Hot pink is my color.” He flashes me a final wide smile before slipping his helmet on and jogging toward the offensive huddle, scanning the field with the same sharp focus I saw the night of the charity ball when he’d rescued me from Ryan.
Chase has always been serious about football. It’s the one thing he never jokes about. But during the Hearts of Denver awards, he was serious about protecting me too. The thought coils in my stomach like a rollercoaster cresting its highest point, right before the plunge. I meant what I told Liv. And being with Chase is fun. Except with my lips still tingling from our kiss, it’s getting harder to ignore the truth. Chase and I might want different things—different futures—that mean there can never be anything serious between us, but still, with every touch and every kiss, my body burns for more.
TWELVE
CHASE
@StillSingleInDenver:I’ve got my “Future Mrs. Sullivan” mug on order #ChasingLove
@BroncoBelle22:OK! You and Serena look gorgeous together. But if it doesn’t work out, call me.#ChasingLove
@StormhawksStatsGirl:OMG you guys look too cute together! Do I hear wedding bells? #Chase&Serena