Caleb’s pov

Coach blew the whistle and I ran another drill. My legs moved on instinct, but my mind was nowhere near the field.

It was still stuck on Monday night. It’s been three days since then.

Elena in my jersey. The way she smiled when I dropped her off.

That kiss I’d replayed a hundred times in my head.

I was so distracted I almost fumbled the pass.

“Harding! Where the hell is your head at?” Coach barked.

I tried to lock in, but every time I blinked, I saw her again. Her eyes. ...