Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 155798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 779(@200wpm)___ 623(@250wpm)___ 519(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 779(@200wpm)___ 623(@250wpm)___ 519(@300wpm)
Roger and Howard were yelling.
I couldn’t breathe.
Brett finished the sack, grabbing Leroy around the chest and taking him down in a very clean tackle. The ball was intercepted by one of the Kings’ players, and he ran for their endzone. Because most of the Minneapolis team had been positioned behind him, he had an almost open field. He got to the Kings’ fifty-yard line before getting caught and pushed out of bounds.
I whooped. The guys were going crazy.
Lo frowned. “What happened?”
The announcers were going crazy as well.
“What happened?” Roger repeated his wife’s question, wrapping his arms around me and lifting me off my feet. “This one’s man just gave us a chance to freaking win this bitch.”
Luna started giggling.
Lo scowled. “Roger, language.”
“Oh. Sorry.” His wide grin said he was having a hard time meaning it. He let me go and ran a hand through his hair. “Man. This is great fu—errr, great—er, football to watch. What a game.”
“You stop talking as if it’s done.” Howard’s tone was no-nonsense. “We ain’t done. We still gotta score.”
Right. His words doused us in reality, and we all quieted, though I was pretty sure Roger was praying under his breath.
The Kings ran off the field, and the camera lingered on Brett as his teammates pounded him on the shoulder pads in congratulations. A few of the coaches went over, showing their thanks, as the offense took the field.
Roger sat on the couch, but scooted all the way to the edge, his elbows on his restless legs as he breathed into his palms. “We need to get closer. Just a little closer and we can do a field goal, tie the game.”
“Forget a field goal.” Howard grunted, gripping his second beer. “We’re going for a touchdown. We’re going to win this thing.”
He was right. They got up to the thirty-second-yard line, and it was first and six.
“First down, first down…” Roger was on repeat.
The announcers were back to talking about Brett’s play, showing it several times before going back to the game. The camera panned over to him on the sidelines, as he stood with his helmet off, all his fierceness directed to the game.
I got a little lost, watching him, because I knew he was going to call after the game. He’d mentioned maybe trying to get some food together. This big guy—who wasn’t as big as the big-big guys in the middle of their line, but was still big to me—wanted to see me, talk to me, spend time with me.
I remembered the feeling of him holding me Friday night, like I weighed nothing.
A shiver went through me, a delicious sensation filling me right up.
The camera kept panning over to Brett in between the plays, and Colby Doubard kept throwing for a first down until the Kings were at the ten. Then, while Reeves was covered by three guys, Doubard tossed the ball to another of their wide receivers.
They scored.
The kicker came out, and they still kept showing the play that had changed the game. Then the kick was good.
Kings were ahead.
Minnesota got three plays in before the clock ran out, and Leroy reared back, throwing as hard as he could to their end. But no one was there.
“Ahhhhh! Hell yes! Hell yes!” Roger nearly exploded.
“Dad, you’re loud,” Cynthia grumbled.
“Yeah, Dad! Stop being so loud,” Charlotte echoed.
“You’re right, kiddo.” He ruffled the top of Cynthia’s hair as she tried ducking out of the way, giggling. “But your pops is happy.” His beaming eyes found me. “We’re going after that Lombardi again. I can feel it. I can just feel it.”
He and Howard launched into a conversation about the team’s real chances of getting back to the Super Bowl as Lo caught my attention. She motioned her head to the side. As I nodded, she stood and announced, “You’re up, honey.”
She followed me out of the room.
“What? Why? What’s going on?” Roger asked.
“I need some sister time.”
“What? But—”
“But nothing. I love you, but I’ve been watching the girls all afternoon. You’re up.”
“Howard was going to show me some new beer he bought.”
“He can show the girls as well and make it an educational talk. Just make sure Luna doesn’t kill anyone. That’s really your only responsibility.”
We moved through the kitchen, and Vicky called my name.
I paused. She turned around, her arms deep in the ice cream machine. “If you’d like, invite your man out for some dessert. But only if you want.” She smiled. “Tell him he did a great job.”
I smiled back as I nodded and pushed out the door, going with Lo to my place.
I texted Brett as Lo pushed open the door and went to sit on the couch in the living room.
“Go on.” She motioned to me. “Finish texting your man.”
“Some privacy, please?”
She studied me before crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back. “No.”