Ezekiel's POV
The locker room pulsed with raw energy, every surface vibrating with the sound of cleats scraping concrete and shoulder pads colliding. The air hung thick with the scent of sweat, tape, and that metallic edge of pure adrenaline that only came before the biggest games of the season.
I yanked my jersey down over my shoulder pads, flexing my arms to work out the tension that had been building all week. Tonight wasn't just another Friday night under the lights. This was the night that mattered. The college recruiter would be sitting in those stands, clipboard in hand, watching every play we made. This game could open doors for Anton, for half the guys on this team, and maybe even for me if I played it right.
I had to be perfect tonight.
Sharp. Ruthless. Completely dialed in.
Which was exactly why I'd spent the entire day dodging Ximena like she was radioactive.
