Page 111 of Bluffed By the Offense

I just nod and smile. I’m not Cass’s world. Not her anything. I need to watch the tape of the talk show back so I can see what expression Treyvon thinks he saw. It’s an act anyway. But I still have the delusional need to subject myself to it.

“She was nervous,” I tell Trey.

“That explains the way she had her hand on your knee like you were the only thing keeping her afloat in turbulent waters. I don’t think anyone watching would pick up on it, but I sure did.” Trey makes his voice high and girly. “Oh, Marcus! Save me! Keep me from drowning, you strong, strong man!”

I laugh. “That’s not what she was doing.”

I subconsciously run my palm down my thigh over the spot where Cass’s hand was resting throughout the interview. I thought it was for show. Maybe she did use me for stability. I like that idea more than I should.

We’re faking here, Delaney. Her words are like a taunt on repeat.

I don’t know if I’m faking anymore. I really like her. And I care about her. And I can’t get her off my mind.

“Where is she, anyway?” Trey asks, looking around the room as if Cass is going to pop out and scream, Surprise!

“She’s with Winona. They’re coming to the game tomorrow.”

“Okay, okay. Girlfriend in the stands at an away game. Gotta love that.”

“The station got her tickets,” I explain. Then I switch the subject in hopes that I can put thoughts of Cass on a back burner. “How was the ride down?”

“Same old, same old,” Trey says, dragging his suitcase the rest of the way into the room. “You ready to hit dinner with the guys? O’Connell and Pierce are unpacking and then they want to meet in the lobby.”

“Yeah. Sure,” I say, setting my pad of paper and pen on the couch and standing to stretch.

“What were you up to?” Trey asks.

“Just strategizing. Hoping we’ve got good coverage on the line. Otherwise, I’m going to be in for some sacks.”

“We’ve got you, QB. Not me, personally. I’ll be the guy downfield, going like this.” He raises his hands in the air and jumps around, thumping the floor with each impact. “Pick me, Delaney! Pick me! Over here!” He’s waving his hands like he’s trying to get my attention.

We both crack up.

“That won’t draw the defense like flies,” I say. “Totally inconspicuous.”

“Yeah. It’s my new strategy. So you can get me the ball.”

“Might need to work out the kinks a bit,” I say, smiling at Trey.

I’m itching to ask him about Cass—to pour out my confused thoughts and emotions. I hate that I can’t tell him. At least this will all be over soon enough. Then I can tell him everything.

It’s the third quarter. We’re at Nissan Stadium, home of the Titans. Two Tennessee teams in a game that matters more to our egos than our standings. The Thunder’s not on our home turf, and that’s obvious by the way the crowd cheers when we fail to make a down.

Cass is in the stands. I texted her this morning to find out what section her seats are in. My head is in the game, but I’m aware of her. I want this win for the Thunder—and for her. After all, I am her fantasy quarterback.

We’re trailing by four points. It’s third down with eight yards to go on the Titans’ thirty-two-yard line. I scan the defense. One of their linebackers is creeping closer to the line of scrimmage. Their corner is playing tight on Treyvon. Chances are, he’s not going to be able to break loose. They’re planning a blitz. I can sense it from their formation.

I give the signal, and our center, Keenan Hall, snaps the ball right into my hands. A Titans linebacker comes hard off my right. I step up and slide left, buying myself a few seconds. Not more. Treyvon and O’Connell are covered.

I scan the field.

Walker is heading toward the end zone with a linebacker trailing him. I throw across my body while moving left to avoid the tackle. Linc catches the ball right inside the goal line. I take the hit, but the ball’s secure in Linc’s hands.

Touchdown Thunder!

The fans go wild.

I’m back up on my feet to the sound of cheers and thumping feet. I glance around, my eyes landing on the section where Cass is sitting. There she is—brown hair bouncing while she jumps up and down, pumping her fist in the air. I can’t make out her expression, but I can tell she’s celebrating my touchdown. My chest swells at the sight of her.