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  Love’s Interception

  Text Copyright © 2013 Nicole Kuhn

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, dpg events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  Chapter 1 - Brianna

  Chapter 2 – Brent

  Chapter 3- Bree

  Chapter 4- Brent

  Chapter 5 – Bree

  Chapter 6- Brent

  Chapter 7 – Bree

  Epilogue-Brent

  I would like to dedicate this book to my husband. I love football as much as you do, and you inspired me to start this story. You are my center!

  Chapter 1 - Brianna

  Climbing out of my car, I stare up at the stadium looming above me. It's almost intimidating. No, scratch that, it is. I've never been the cheerleader type. In school, I was the quiet bookworm no one paid any attention to. Covering my tall willowy frame with baggy clothes, pinning my long red hair up in buns or ponytails, I made sure attention was off of me. In eighth grade, when I sprung up to 5'7", I towered over all the girls and most of the boys. They called me giraffe and made jokes about how the leaves I ate tasted or, “How's the air up there?” It didn’t help matters that I was very clumsy. I went home crying almost every day. They called me Bree the Tree. Who would have thought that Brianna Woods would be such an easy name to pick on? Finding it easier to hide than bring notice to my height made it easier to get through high school.

  The one time I was noticed had been by Brent Coleson. Our senior year. He was the captain of the football team. Of course I had a crush on him, what red-blooded high school girl didn’t? He was handsome, nice and popular. I had been assigned to tutor him in History. If he failed, he couldn't play. After four weeks of studying together, his grades were finally where they needed to be. Our last study session together he asked me out. I said no, knowing full well that I would never be accepted by his friends and that it would end with me being picked on again. I had made it through two years unnoticed, but he kept pushing me. After hours of him calling my house and annoying the hell out of my mother, I finally gave in. That Saturday, he had picked me up at my house. Dressed in nice jeans and a polo shirt, he charmed my mother with his playboy smile. His blonde hair was neatly trimmed, showing off his bright green eyes. While tutoring him, I always tried to look at them without him noticing. His body looked more like a well-built man instead of the boy he was. He had a strong muscle build that could be seen through his very tight shirts. He was mature, unlike most of the guys our age. I knew he had it rough at home. His father pushed him to play football and didn’t care about grades. He wasn’t happy. But I wasn’t trying to be friends, so when he talked about personal things, I pretended to ignore him and get back to work. It was safer for me that way.

  Having settled on my nicest pair of jeans and a tee that wasn’t baggy, I rushed down stairs to rescue him from the inquisition my parents were most likely giving him. My dad wanted to talk football, my mom wanted to know his plans. When I heard him say the zoo, I thought it was sweet; not your typical date. He held my hand as we walked around, looking at the animals. He kept asking about things I was into as we found out we had a lot in common. As we stopped by the giraffes, I felt uncomfortable. After all, I had spent years being compared to one and harassed at school. It was like having to face it again after all this time. He never did pick on me like the rest of our classmates, but it still made me uneasy. He must have sensed that I felt awkward and said we could go see the elephants. As we turned to walk away, laughter from behind us caught our attention. Jamie and Marnie Brooks. The head cheerleader and her sister, who happened to be the ones that started the nickname giraffe, were standing there pointing and laughing.

  "Come to see your family Bree the Tree?" Jamie had said. “You’re a little out of your league here. But Brent always did like charity cases, right baby?” Brent had let go of my hand and stepped away from me. Jamie walks over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. As she leans in to kiss him, I turn away. I can hear her telling him that she missed him. I know that dated a year ago, but I thought they had broken up. My chest had felt heavy, constricting and I couldn’t breathe. Marnie came over and told me that I was a charity date and a joke that Jamie and Brent had decided to play on me. I should have known it was all a joke. Why would the hottest guy in school want to take me out? A joke, charity. A way to spend their time, some entertainment. I ran from him, from the laughter of the girls as tears clouded my sight. Calling my mom to pick me up, I never told her what happened. Crying myself to sleep I vowed to never feel that hopeless again. The next day and for several after that, Brent called and tried to talk to me. Most likely to rub in how great their joke on me was. I ignored the calls, my mother sent him away and if I saw him in school, I would turn and head the other way, ducking into the nearest girl’s room just to get away from him.

  College was a completely different matter. I was average height at UCLA. Having chosen a college on the complete opposite coast from New York, I tried to change. It was after all the Land of the blonde amazons. I started dressing more for my body type. Wore my hair down, got contacts. I still got scared when men asked me out. I always felt I was the butt of a joke. So I had yet to lose my virginity. I may have looked different, but I was the same old loser inside. My junior year of getting my arts degree, a woman had approached me asking if I modeled. I spent all my time writing or painting, so I thought she had been trying to prank me. To me, everything good that came my way had to be a joke. I didn’t trust anyone. The girl friends I had made in classes insisted I try it out, apparently having heard of the firm this woman represented. So I did. Now three years later, I'm standing in front of the Buffalo Bucks football stadium trying to gather enough courage to go inside. My agent said he was contacted by them to try out for the cheerleading team. I still can't believe people think I'm pretty, but since my modeling jobs have dried up and the market is veering back towards blondes and away from tall awkward girls like me, I was going to need a new job and this one paid good.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I push those sad memories aside. Hoisting my gym bag over my shoulder, I head towards the entrance. A few men in workout clothes come up behind me, laughing and joking with each other. Sometimes I wish I had close friends, instead of being such a loner. The people I knew in LA were all superficial and out for fame. Already feeling nervous about try-outs, I didn’t want to get in their way. I step aside to let them pass, but one of the guys stops and looks at me.

  "Hey, you need help?" I'm captured by his eyes. Bright green pools, handsome face, the sick feeling in my stomach gains force. It's Brent. The man of my nightmares and dating fears.

  "No, actually, I have to go," I stutter as I turn to run back to my car.

  "Hey, wait. Are you here for tryouts? You're going the right way." He reaches a hand out to grab my arm and as I pull away, I trip over my own damn feet, falling right into him.

  "Here," he says, wrapping his arms around my waist. Fire surges through my body as he touches the bare skin on my stomach. His face looks somber, and he doesn’t laugh at my clumsiness as I expected. "Let me help you. I didn't mean to frighten you." Sucking up my pride, I push off of him, maneuvering myself out of his grasp. My h
and flies up to straighten the high ponytail I had been instructed to put my hair up in.

  "Do I know you?" he asks me.

  "No, sorry. This way you said?" I point towards the garage door open in the underside of the stadium. He nods and turns to head that way.

  "Here, I'll show you the way. I'm Brent."

  "Thanks," I say, trying to avoid giving him my name. We walk silently into the building and I stop for a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness.

  “First time at NFL cheerleading tryouts?” he asks me, trying to make conversation. Nodding my head, I continue down the hallway towards the field opening.

  “Woods, you’re late, let’s get going. Didn’t your agent tell you to get here early?” The loud petite woman at the other end of the hallway yells down to us. “Stop flirting with the players and hustle.” Moving to a jog, I rush past her, leaving the dark hallway behind for the sun covered football field. I’ve been here for games before, but never down on the field. Everything looks so huge, and yes, still intimidating. The cheerleaders are all at one end and the players at the other. Seeing as how they have already drafted and pulled together their team, they are just here for typical practice. Men move back and forth, running laps around the end zone and tackling into each other.

  “Coleson, get your ass moving,” a man yells from the practice end.

  “Brianna, let’s go, we’re over here, get signed in and start warming up.” Snapping out of my awe, I turn towards her.

  “Brianna Woods. Oh my god.” I hear his breathy voice behind me, “I can’t even believe I didn’t recognize you. You look amazing.” He steps towards me, and I can feel his eyes raking over my body. My skin heats up and I take a step back.

  “I have to go. Bye.” Spinning on my toes, I turn and run after the woman who seems in charge. Dropping my bag by the bench, I sit in the grass and begin my stretches. Butterflies seem to have made their way into my stomach and I feel sick. It has nothing at all to do with the audition and all to do with a green eyed devil from my past. Sneaking a glance over my shoulder, I see him still standing where I left him, staring at me. I can see the dumbstruck look on his face. Part of me wants to run over to him and throw my arms around his neck. The other part remembers all too well the humiliation I went through the last time we spoke. Shaking my head, I continue warming up. I have to get my head into the game. Although, now I don’t think I want the job. Do I want to stand on the sidelines, having to see Brent every day I have to work or practice? My body hums YES I DO! My heart is screaming no. I want to show him I’m not the awkward shy loser I was in high school. I’m grown up Bree now. The model, and soon to be cheerleader. As the coach steps in front of the girls warming up, she announces to form two lines. She’s a short blonde woman, who can’t be any older than us. Her blue eyes and long pale hair make her the epitome of cheerleaders.

  “Ladies, I’m Elena Rey. If you make the team, I’ll be your coach, your fitness and dance instructor and your chaperone for road games. You’re all here today, handpicked by me, to show me what you got. Show me how much you want to be on this squad. Some of you have cheerleading experience, some dance, some none at all. It doesn’t matter. If you’re a fit on the squad, I’ll personally work with each one of you daily until you know the routine. If you’re just here to land yourself a football player, you’re not going to make it. This squad expects full dedication from each and every one of the girls we pick. Now, let’s dance. I’ll show you some moves, you copy them to the best of your ability.” As we line up, I notice there are twelve of us. Everyone looks excited to be here, except me. Plastering a fake smile on my face, I watch Elena, try mimicking her moves. The players at the other end of the field disappear from my thoughts as I focus on moving my body and giving this all I have.

  Two grueling hours later, covered in sweat, we all get to sit down and rest. I pull a bottle of water from my bag and chug, collapsing to the ground. Modelling was never this draining. Even walking around in heels for hours, my legs and ass never hurt so much. But then again, this is cheerleading. Definitely more sporty than walking in heels. Plus, I feel as if I’ve accomplished something. Even if I don’t make the squad, I feel good about it. A blonde sits down next to me, glaring at me. What’s her problem?

  “Do I know you?” she asks me, her tone snooty. I’ve met girls like her before and funny thing is, she reminds me exactly of Jamie Brooks. She was the blonde in the family. Her sister Marnie had brown hair. Shaking my head no, I turn my attention back to Elena. How many times am I going to have to hear that question? I should have thought harder about coming back home for this. Maybe my agent could have got me on a team closer to LA.

  “Ok ladies. As you know, we only have three spots open. I’m going to call six names. You will come back tomorrow and we will go over the routine we learned today. From there I’ll pick the three who made the squad. You all did exceptional today. But again, I’m only calling six names for now. Those who don’t make it are welcome to try out again next year.” I zone out, looking back down at the men on the other end of the field. They are starting to pack up from practice. I wonder which one is Brent. I hope I can make it out of here without seeing him again. Suddenly I hear words that send a prickle through my brain, and I look up at Elena.

  “Woods, congrats,” she says, standing in front of me, and the blonde next to me glares. The next thing Elena says scares me.

  “Jamie Brooks. Congrats ladies. I’ll text you all later today about tomorrow’s practice time. Come with your A-Game, and don’t be late.” She looks at me as she says this and I feel my face redden. I scurry to get my bag and start walking towards the exit.

  “Bree the Tree huh? Trying to be a cheerleader? Yeah, I thought I knew you. What, did you get some plastic surgery or something? You didn’t look like this in school. Good luck with making the squad. I’m sure you’ll be too busy eating leaves to dance.” I can hear her stalking after me. I just can’t seem to get away from my past, no matter what I do. We’ve been out of high school for five years now, and she still feels the need to be a bully. Maybe I should have turned this down and stayed away. This was the reason I moved across country. But after try-outs, I really want this. I want to be on the squad, prove to myself and everyone I can do it. I’m not that scared little high school girl anymore. I turn to tell her off and collide with something hard. Warm arms wrap themselves around my waist and keep me from falling to the ground. As I try to regain my balance and look up, those damn green eyes are staring down at me. His charming playboy smile lighting up his devilishly handsome face. Damn it, I hadn’t even seen him here.

  “Maybe I should be a cheerleader. I’m good at catching you. How’d it go Bree?” he asks me. His voice is low and husky. Trying not to melt, I peeled myself from his grasp. Straightening out my shirt, I look at Jamie.

  “Oh My God, Brent! It’s me, Jamie!” She throws herself at him, practically pushing me out of the way. Latching her arms around her neck. I can’t fully fault her, as I was thinking of doing the same thing just a few hours ago. I take the chance to make my escape. Turning my back to both of them, I hurry through the stadium passage and back out into the parking lot.

  As I’m digging through my gym bag trying to locate the keys to my car, someone taps me on the shoulder. Spooking, I drop the bag and all my things fall out at my feet. Sighing, I turn to see Brent. Again. He just won’t give up and take the hint.

  “You keep running away from me today. Maybe you should be my new running back instead of a cheerleader. Can you catch a ball?” Unable to contain the giggle building in my throat, I let it out.

  “Yeah, right. I can’t even cheerlead, let alone play football.”

  “I love hearing you laugh,” he whispers, leaning in towards me. With my cheeks flaming red, I bend down to pick up my things and he must have had the same idea, because our heads collide, sending me once again, into a fall. His arms wrap around me again, pinning me to the side of my car.

  “Yeah, you do seem
to have a habit of falling around me. That wouldn’t be good. It leads to fumbles and interceptions. So maybe you can’t be my running back after all. You didn’t make the squad?” I’m at a loss for words. All my brain can do is think of the heat spreading from his arm on my waist. He’s touching bare skin, as my tank top has inched its way up my back. Blinking, I try to speak. “No, I mean yeah, I did. I have to come back tomorrow.”

  “Well that’s great news. Let’s go celebrate. Why do you look so down? This is a good thing right?” Come on brain, please work.

  “Jamie also made it to the next round of cuts and decided that we’re still in high school. So no, it’s not a good thing. I’m sorry, I have to go.” Sliding down the car and out of his grip once again, I begin putting my items back into the gym bag. He kneels down next to me, and I can smell him. Sweaty, spicy and all male. I take a deep breath, flooding my senses with his scent. My heart races and I feel the dampness between my legs spreading. For a virgin, my body sure does think about sex a lot when he’s near me.

  “Yeah, she does seem to be stuck in the past. I heard she was still living at home with her parents since she got divorced last year. She’s probably just trying to make herself feel better. Just ignore her. You’re better than that. She’s just jealous of how beautiful you look.” He hands me my towel and as our hands connect, I feel a shock, pulling my hand back quickly.

  “Thank you, for, helping me today. I-I have to go.” I scan the ground for my keys. I know I didn’t put them in the bag. As I turn away from Brent, I hear a jingling. Hanging my head, I let out a breath. He has them. Can this day get any worse for me?

  “This your car? It’s nice.” He says, shaking my keys directly behind my head. I turn, trying to snatch them from him in an attempt to make a fast escape. It’s useless. Since our zoo date, he’s sprung up about another three or four inches and is now taller than me. We used to be the same height. I look up into his eyes, pleading with mine to just let me go. He doesn’t get it I guess.