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 hand 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.