Scott
My best friend had been playing ball with me for as far as I could remember.
He’d been the guy I’d thrown passes to when it was just the two of us practicing in our backyard.
He’d been the guy who tackled me and sacked me countless times.
No other guy could brag about that.
Rikko could.
Often and not quite to my liking.
And right now, my best friend was the brick that San Francisco built their defense on.
He wasn’t a Heisman contender for nothing.
He might be my brother outside the field, but right now we were competitors, trying to outsmart each other in the game.
I called out the play and I knew that Rikko was watching me closely, trying to decipher if it was going to be a run, a pass, or a combo of both.
I loved my best friend. He’d been there for me at my lowest and at my peaks.
It would have been a dream to play with him on the same team, but life didn’t work out that way.
He was great for San Francisco, but right now, he was blocking my throws and it sucked.
“Ginger 18, Wyatt 57,” I mouthed to my offensive line.
Coach had called it and he was right.
San Francisco was running us ragged and my men were getting pounded on trying to defend me; it was time to scramble their defense.
The second the ball was in my hands, I was scanning the positions that my receivers were running towards, knowing that Rikko and the rest of his teammates were gunning for me.
Dillon was covered, Trey was still running and Jaret was trying to get free from the shackles of a linebacker.
Trey had run left, parallel to the line of scrimmage, revealing that San Francisco’s defense was trying to cover all the receivers instead of rushing me which was a mistake on their part because even if I didn’t have a lot of time to throw the ball, they’d given me enough.
Enough time to step back and watch as Trey snagged some alone time, galloping alone through the secondary and I let go of the ball.
The time it took for Trey to grab the ball in the air as he ran it for a touchdown was enough for me to hear “Motherfucker” come out of my best friend’s mouth.
Rikko tapped the top of my helmet and shook his head as he and I watched half of the stadium erupt in cheers.
The other half was grieving the loss of their three-point lead and with twenty seconds on the clock, San Francisco would have to bow down.
We played for opposing teams, but when Rikko left my side to conglomerate with his team, I had no doubts that at the end of the game, he would be one of the first ones to congratulate me.
We were soldiers fighting on different teams inside the grid, but outside of it, we were brothers.
The media had hyped up most of our matches, the Royals had played against San Francisco twice last year and this year, we faced only once during the regular season, and if our standings held, we would be facing each other again during the playoffs.
Rikko and I laughed about all the hype.
We might not have ended up on the same team, but we were both living our dreams.
And there was no better man I could think of sharing the success with than the man who’d been there for me my whole life.
“You couldn’t just let one slip by you, huh?” Rikko said as he punched me on my side.
We were at Grill Masters, a bar a block away from the hotel that my team was camped out at. Normally, we’d have left right after the game, but Mother Nature was barreling down on the East Coast next week so we were traveling to Atlanta tomorrow instead of Saturday.
It sucked that I couldn’t make it back to Cali to be with Bridgette, and she’d been sad on the phone when I’d informed her as soon as Coach told us hours before we faced San Francisco.
“Would you?” I returned and lowered my baseball cap. San Francisco had just suffered a loss, and although the bar seemed friendly, you never knew if there were any crazy fans who would start talking to you and blame you the entire time you were at the bar for their team’s loss.
His answer was a chuckle, and his eyes went right back to the TV screen showing the highlights of our matchup.
Dillon dropped into the seat by my right, “Yo, great defense, man.” His eyes traveled to Rikko to which my best friend responded with a “Thanks.”
I knew that Rikko was still processing their loss and the fact that he was being quiet meant that he needed some time to cool off.
When you were passionate about something, you poured everything into it – blood, guts, emotions – any loss was heartbreaking.
He was the only one on his team who’d come to the bar where my teammates were rejoicing across the dancefloor, and the alcohol was being poured in copious amounts.
We still had to make curfew, but Coach understood the need for a celebration, and since we were traveling ahead of schedule to snow-covered Atlanta, he’d given us two hours extra to get our jollies off.
A few of my teammates stopped by my table to shoot the shit, and they’d been surprised to see Rikko beside me.
My best friend didn’t need introductions.
His stock was high up in the NFL. Everyone knew him.
But not everyone knew how close we were unless they followed us during college.
But even the surprised ones didn’t question why he was there, hanging out with me. Football players weren’t like hockey players who got off on blood, gory, and breaking jaws.
It would be hard for me to go out drinking with my best friend if he’d just punched the crap out of me or I him.
I loved watching hockey; I just never wanted to play it.
I played baseball and even lacrosse, but the gruesome facial injuries in hockey deterred me from playing it.
I liked my teeth intact, all of them.
“What’s up with Berger?” Rikko muttered, his eyes not straying from the screen on top of the bar.
I didn’t say anything. Rikko must have sensed the animosity between me and my back-up. Berger barely looked at me when he’d stepped inside the bar with Dillon and Jax. They’d stopped by where I was sitting where Berger was likely forced to interact with me, and all he did was act bored and look away.
“He being a pussy? Can’t stand being number 2?” Rikko said, his head turning to gauge my reaction.
It was public knowledge that Berger had the volatility of a toddler and the emotional instability of a porcupine. I didn’t know if porcupines were emotionally unstable, but I’d read a book where hugging porcupines was a study on how to deal with narcissistic assholes. Berger had been drafted in the Top 10, but he’d created so much drama in Minnesota which led to him being traded to us.
So far, Coach Henderson had kept Berger from acting out, but it was only a matter of time before his moodiness showed up again. I practiced with him, he did his job, and I did mine.
I shrugged and said, “He has issues.”
“With you?” Rikko questioned as he chugged his beer. He was pouring his sorrow into a glass of Heineken and even if I didn’t want to drink, I joined him because that’s what friends did.
I’d rather be in my room right now, chatting with my girlfriend, but my best friend needed to know that I was also here for him.
“Yeah. Bridge and him seem to have a past,” I said, my voice louder than I’d intended it to be, but the music in the bar was loud enough to cover my voice. “I haven’t really talked to her about it, but they recognized each other at a party and since then he’s been more than the regular douche than he’s been.”
“Ah. One of those I hate you because you got the girl types? What a sorry ass.” Rikko said and laughed, “How’s Beauty by the way?”
He called Bridge ‘Beauty’ and I wouldn’t contradict him. Bridge was a beauty inside and out. Her heart was bigger than any other women I knew. Even when she was tired in her college classes, she always made time for the kids in her painting class. She was sad to let her job at the Japanese restaurant go, but she was trying to get into the NASA program, so she had no choice.
She didn’t have to work, but she did it because she wanted to experience everything that her heart desired.
“She’s busy,” I said, longing filling my voice. “She has crazy college courses and her schedule’s loaded.”
“Hmm,” Rikko said in a meaningful tone. You’d have to know him well enough or you’d have missed the question in his voice.
“What?” My brows were raised. “What were you gonna say?”
People’s opinions didn’t matter to me. But the people who were closest to me, their thoughts mattered.
He grabbed a fry from the small plate in front of him, popped it in his mouth, and said, “Why her? I mean, don’t get me wrong…she’s beautiful, obviously smart, but I’m doubting her common sense because she’s with you – but why her? You could have a pick of women who would cater to you, follow you everywhere you go, pack up their bags to be with you. So, why be with a college girl who barely has time for you?”
It was a fair question.
A question I asked myself once or twice when I was stuck in the loneliness of my hotel room, when I was on the road and the time difference between us bugged the hell out of me, when I was craving more of her face instead of little snippets of conversation.
I drank my beer and replied, “Because I want to be with her and her only. I loved your sister and after her, I didn’t know if I would find it again with another woman.”
“Find what?” Rikko asked. He was there when I courted Kara, and he was there when his sister had broken my heart. He was there for the buildup and the fall-out.
“Peace.” I exhaled, that’s what Bridgette brought to me, “She doesn’t like me because I’m a quarterback. She doesn’t even care that I am. She gets me, my need for space and when I’m lost inside my own head, she calls me out on it. She’s honest and she makes me happy.”
“She’s that good in bed?” Only Rikko would ask that, and have his balls still attached to him.
“Shut up.” I smacked the back of his head, an ‘oww shit’ came out of him, and I went on, “She’s a cool girl and I just love spending time with her.”
Soft hands encircled my waist and a voice that I’d been craving since the last time I spoke to her said, “Spending time with who?”
I turned so fast that I could have herniated my spine, but I didn’t care. “Bridge?”
Her hazel eyes glittered in amusement, and the smile I’d missed so much materialized in front of me, “I’m here,” as her soft voice created a frisson of need inside me.
My hands found her waist and it didn’t matter to me who was watching or where we were, I lowered my lips to her mouth and her answer was an enthusiastic yes.
“Scott…babe.” Her mouth was moving, but I didn’t want to let go.
“You guys are giving me a woody,” Rikko said and my arm struck in the air to hit him. I let go of Bridge’s lips, but my left hand stayed on her waist.
Her hair had grown longer and she was wearing makeup, something that she didn’t do much of. Ironic because her mother was America’s beauty icon.
Now that my face wasn’t attached to hers, much to my dismay, I had the chance to check her out. I liked checking my girlfriend out, she was a gorgeous woman, sue me if that wasn’t allowed.
She was wearing skinny jeans and the sparkly top she wore complimented her dewy skin. Her ears were adorned with small, heart-shaped diamonds, and I still couldn’t get over the fact that she was here.
“Let’s go.” Excitement poured out of me. I was being rude to Rikko, but who cared? I’d make it up to him by sending him the newest gaming console for his birthday, but right now, I wanted to be inside my girlfriend. “Let’s get out of here.”
Bridgette’s face twitched in amusement, “I just got here. I know this is important to you. Let’s spend time here with your team then you have me the whole night. My flight doesn’t leave til noon tomorrow.”
I wanted to argue, but my fairy bared her claws, “Scott, you texted me that celebrations are important for your team.”
I did and now my words were being used against me. It wasn’t like my teammates were even celebrating with me. They were drinking their asses off, but the fact that I was here was important. My presence was seen as an effort to being close to them.
Last year, I barely went out with them and we’d won, but there was something missing.
My coaches and I talked about it, and when they’d asked my teammates what they wanted from their quarterback, most of them wanted me to partake in the losses but also in our wins. And our wins extended to being in bars like this.
I missed my woman, but she was right, I’d only been here for half an hour. Most of the time, after our wins, we’d go out for two hours and go back to the hotel or if we were in LA, go back home. We didn’t go until everyone was accounted for. No one stayed behind because that could mean trouble. Not everyone made great decisions, especially when they were alone, so we’ve made it a rule to have everyone leave at the same time or at least half remained to wait until curfew.
Bridge let go of my hug and she stepped over to Rikko’s side and gave him a side hug.
“You get shorter and shorter every time I see you.” Rikko joked and Bridge smacked his shoulder, “Been working out, beauty?”
Bridge rolled her eyes and said, “Yeah, with the microscopes. They weigh a ton.”
Dillon passed by and did a double take. “Bridgette? Hi. Didn’t know you were here.”
Bridge had been acquainted with him at the L.A. Live club. She smiled at him and said, “Just for tonight, I head back to L.A. tomorrow.”
“Cool. Cool. Just keep our quarterback happy, okay? We need more wins,” Dillon said and gave her a quick hug. Before I could land a punch to his side, he’d left just as quickly, chuckling all the way to our teammates where women were now in abundance.
I lifted Bridge to the empty chair to my side and pulled her chair, with her on it, as close as possible.
“I hate that you can just manhandle me so easily,” her voice complained, but her eyes were glued to mine, teasing, seducing, making me wish we were alone.
She looked so good, good enough to eat that I couldn’t help myself and close my eyes as my lips landed on her forehead.
She was still iffy about being out in the public with me, and I had to respect her position. Her brother was used to the limelight, but Bridge lived a quiet life. She wanted to keep her privacy as much as possible. Being my girlfriend would undoubtedly bring cameras to her life and she was struggling with it. She didn’t have to say much. She’d explained it to me, and as much as I wanted to show her off to the world, she was allowed to have a say on how she handled her life.
Tonight, we were at a club where we didn’t have any control of who was going to take pictures or not. The mere fact that she was here with me pushed all the doubts aside. She was trying.
It was more than I could ask for.
She flew from her last class so she could see me.
School was important to her.
But she was also telling me that I was important to her.
Her head leaned over to me, and I smelled the fresh fragrance of flowers and fruits combined with her unique scent.
Peace, that’s what she brought me.
Rikko asked Bridge how school was going, and Bridge talked in a relaxed manner.
I ordered more food for our table since I had a feeling she didn’t eat yet. She needed to pay attention to her health, too. Sometimes she forgot to eat because she was in the lab and when I was close by, I made sure to order her food or bring her food.
The softness of her skin was a stark contrast to my hand that had been roughed up by years of holding a football.
I was already looking forward to getting inside my hotel room to talk to her, but now that she was here, my night had gotten ten times better.
Rikko and Bridge got to talking and I’d say something once in a while, but mostly I just stayed quiet and savored her presence.
“You think your brother would be okay if I asked something about imports and food production?” Rikko was asking, his hands tapping lazily on his phone.
“I’m pretty sure he’d be happy to hear from you.” Bridge said, “Any talk that takes him away from rugby is also good for him. He’d thank you for making him feel like he graduated college for something.”
Rikko, Bishop, and I all graduated from college, but Bridge had a point. We played sports in college and we all went on to play professionally. People often forgot that we didn’t just go to college to play ball. We actually had to go to classes, pass them, and play while doing all the coursework.
My degree in business administration might have been a doozy for some to obtain, but to me it was hard work.
I had to take exams early because of road games, and on days when my body couldn’t take another step, I had to go inside lecture halls where students were wide awake and alert while I was trying to catch up on sleep.
“We’ve been texting back and forth. He’s making big waves in rugby, but Bishop’s bound to do that. He’s a great player. My sister can’t stop fawning over him –“ Rikko said and Bridge laughed.
“I understand the feeling. Bishop can’t –“ Bridge’s voice was cut off by a voice on the makeshift karaoke stage on the west side of the bar.
“Everybody. Everrrrybody…Listen.” His voice was still clear, but I could tell he’d been drinking. “I got something to say. I wanna sing a song.”
Rikko’s eyes were filled with question marks, “What the hell? Is that Berger on stage?”
The bar wasn’t that big, so from our vantage point we saw my back-up on the stage, wearing a light green shirt and jeans and he had a microphone in his hand.
He was standing straight, a good sign that he wasn’t as intoxicated as he sounded.
“He’s gonna end up on another YouTube video for this stunt,” Rikko sniggered as he shook his head. It was also a known fact that Dex had videos all over the web documenting his ridiculous stunts. He liked to party and the partygoers liked to see him dancing on tables, slurring his speech, or just talking smack about other NFL players. He lived for the drama and drama liked him back.
Bridge didn’t say a word, and there was worry in her dazzling eyes.
I caressed her arm, assuring her that nothing bad was going to happen. I eyed my teammates around the stage; they were going to make sure that he wasn’t going to get out of hand. We’d just won a game. The last thing we needed was bad publicity.
“He’s allowed to sing. That’s why there’s karaoke,” I said, not thinking too much about Berger. My girl was here, and anything that the asshat did or said wasn’t going to rain on my parade.
“This is dedicated to the girl who got away.” Berger’s voice was hard and I couldn’t help but switch my gaze from my girl to where he was standing. The guy garnered attention wherever he went, I would give him credit for that.
He put his finger up in the air, as if signaling the DJ to start the song, and on cue, a song started to play.
I hated Justin Bieber.
The man-child who smuggled pet monkeys and slept with porn stars.
I didn’t hate him for those things though.
I didn’t like the guy because he could have one of the hottest chicks around, but he kept screwing around on her.
Rikko was a die-hard Selena Gomez fan.
And he was proud of it.
We went to her concert in Texas a while back, and Justin the douche, was the surprise guest.
Anyways, the main reason I didn’t like Justin was because he was such a poster child for child stars and because his songs were overplayed on the radio.
Just like the song that Dex was singing now, where he was talking about apologies and second chances.
I wasn’t a big fan of Justin and an even lesser fan of Dex, but for some reason, Dex could carry a tune.
He sang the song, and my teammates were letting out whistles, egging him on.
Rikko’s shoulders were shaking as he listened to Dex sing, “Who the hell is he apologizing to? Did he piss off another girl? Another reporter?”
“Is it too late…” Dex was singing and dancing to his own voice, obviously having fun.
And as he was finishing the song, he lifted his head up and talked to the audience, “There’s this girl, now a woman, she’s got eyes the color of jade and burnt gold. I called her Tiny because she was small, but whenever she looked at me, she made me feel as if nothing else mattered.”
I was still holding Bridge, so I felt her spine stiffen against my palm.
Dex held a captive audience and everyone around the bar was staring at him.
The women went “Awwww” and some of the guys went, “Boooo.”
But Dex kept on, “I’m sorry for leaving you. For all the years I’ve let on without telling you how much you meant to me. I know you can hear me. I wish you could also feel my heart so you’d know just how sorry I am.”
Rikko said, “Man, what is this? When did Berger turn into a sobbing pussy?”
I clenched my jaw because even if Dex hadn’t said her name, I knew who he was referring to.
Jade and burnt gold?
What the fuck?
Bridge whispered, “I think we should leave.”
He was making a play for her when he knew exactly who she was with now.
I would never disrespect another man’s woman like that.
“No. We’re staying.” There was a cool chill to my voice that hadn’t been there minutes ago. “I want to hear what the shithead has to say.”
“Scott, it’s not worth it. He’s goading you, trying to manipulate you.” Bridge’s voice was firm and I knew she wasn’t rising up to his bait. “Let’s go back to your hotel. I think we’ve had enough for tonight.”
Rikko, finally catching on the situation, “Shit, he’s talking about you?” His eyes were asking Bridge for confirmation.
Bridge nodded and Rikko sighed, “He knows you guys are together, right?”
I nodded, “Yep. Obviously it doesn’t matter to him that she’s with me, he’s still hung up on Bridge and he’s letting everyone know about it.”
“He’s not hung up on me. He’s just upset that you one-upped him again. You’re the quarterback and now you have me. Trust me, Dex Berger doesn’t think of anyone but himself. He just wants to make a scene. It’s his specialty,” Bridge explained as the server closed in on our table. Rikko and I threw down a couple of twenties to cover the food, drinks, and tip.
I pulled Bridgette to my side, channeling her sensibility so I wouldn’t call out Berger who I could now see was trying to get a rise out of me.
We were just about to leave our table when a voice magnified by the microphone he was holding said, “Bridgette Cordello, you asked me a long time ago, under the starlit skies of Manhattan to choose you…”
If a stare could kill a person, Bridgette’s eyes would have butchered Dex to pieces. I’d seen my woman annoyed, frustrated, but not this angry.
Never this angry.
“I’m sorry. I’m five years too late, but I was wrong, Tiny. I should have chosen you. Please give me another chance. Come back to me…” To anyone who was thinking of who he referred to as Tiny, they now had the answer.
Cameras clicked.
Pictures were taken.
Videos were looping.
“Fucks” came out of my teammates’ mouth and before I could stop myself, my feet carried me to where the fucker was standing.
I reached him in record time, my legs eating up the height of the stage.
“She’s mine, asshole,” I roared at him. The adrenaline was coursing through all parts of my body. I’d learned a long time ago to only use my fists when I was making a point.
And I wanted to make an exclamation point in the smug fucker’s face.
He’d been baiting me so that I would react to his mind games.
I could swallow his assholery in the locker room, practice, and even in games because I was the best at it.
But there was no way I was letting him get away with this.
He was asking her to go back to him when she was with me.
If that wasn’t disrespect then I was a priest trapped in a football player’s body.
He wasn’t going to get away with this. Damn the consequences. I’ll take the fall for this, but I wouldn’t let anyone doubt how much I valued Bridge.
My right fist swung in the air, but it was caught by someone.
Rikko said, “Not worth your throwing arm, buddy.”
Dillon, Jax, Dylan, and Cole formed a wall between me and Dex, trying to subdue the situation before it got out of hand.
Dex spewed, “I was there before you, Strauss! I was her first. Does she still stutter when she –“
He didn’t get to finish whatever he was going to say, a loud smack greeted Dex’s right cheek, and the owner of the hand that delivered it was fuming in anger, “It wasn’t enough that you made a mess out of me, Dex? You had to go and attack the man that I love, too? Get this straight, you liar, I’m never going back to you. Not if you were the last monkey alive on any planet. You were right to leave me because I found out how much I was worth. Scott’s better than you, in everything. Swallow that.”
She stepped away from him and my arms felt full of her presence as she looked up at me, “Let’s get out of here. He’s not worth it.”
I’d never had a woman fight my battles for me.
I could handle everything on my own.
But Bridge…she wasn’t just any other woman.
She might be smaller in stature than any of us who towered over her.
But she held her own like a regal queen.
She defended me, us, in front of everyone tonight.
She preferred being in the shadows, but when it came to me, to us, she came right out into the light.
All because she loved me.
She’d said it…she loved me.
I lifted her in my arms, planting her legs around my waist and we walked out of the bar just like that.
Her head cradled against the crook of my neck.
Her tears wetting my skin.
I waved my left hand at Rikko, letting him know that I got it from here, and that Bridge and I could handle it. He nodded his head and motioned with his phone to text him. I gave him a thumbs up.
On our road games, Dillon had asked me twice why I didn’t want to sleep with other women.
Bridge was out of sight and she’d never know.
But the thing was – I would know.
I would know that it would break her heart if I ever cheated on her.
I was a guy, sure I’d get tempted, but there was something stronger than temptation.
The way she stood up for me tonight.
The way she surprised me tonight, flying here to see me.
The way she was holding on to me, as if she didn’t ever want to let go.
She was a force to be reckoned with.
I’d loved before but this –
With Bridge, what we had, it was on another level.
She gave me faith.
Faith that we’d be able to survive all the storms up ahead.
I didn’t know if love was in the cards for me again, but being with her, she made it hard not to fall in love with her.
“Babe, we’re here,” I said, as I pressed the digital key to the door of my hotel room.
I had a roommate, but I knew that Dillon would give us privacy for tonight.
I turned on the light by the door, and she slowly straightened her back to face me.
“I love you.” Her beautiful eyes were alight with something that wasn’t there before or maybe it was, I just hadn’t recognized it. Her face was streaked with tears, but her beauty still managed to take my breath away. “I’m sorry about him. I should’ve told you. He has a mean streak.”
Her words waved a red flag at me, “Did he ever hurt you?” If he did, the bastard would be lucky if he survived the morning.
“No. Not like that…He’s just vengeful. He wants to be number one at everything, no matter the cost.” She clarified, “We were so young, he went to Bishop’s school and his family owned the bakeshop that Bishop and I liked to go to. We were together for a year and a half, but as soon as my brother moved to college, Dex dropped me like a sack of potatoes.”
My fists clenched at my sides, typical asshole, he probably used Bridgette to get good with Bishop who was already a popular high school athlete.
“He said he wasn’t ready for a commitment, but I’d heard him talking to one of his friends saying that I was becoming a baggage, that I was becoming too wrapped up in him. That now that Bishop was away, he was going to be the king of the school, and he was going to have a chance with prettier girls. He was with me because my brother was popular. The sad thing was that I never even told Bishop about us. He thought that Dex and I were just friends.”
“You should have told him,” I said, massaging her back. I set her on the bathroom counter, “I’ve no doubt that Bishop would beat him up if he learned what he did to you.”
“My brother has fought many battles for me; Dex was the least of his problems.” She murmured that last part, and as her soft hands rubbed my unshaven jaw, a blanket of calm wrapped around me.
We’d had a rough night, but the important thing was that we were together.
“I love you, Bridge.” The words came out of me, as natural as me cradling the football with my arm, waiting to throw it. “You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”
Twin dimples grazed those gorgeous cheeks and a sliver of lust pierced through me when she stuck her tongue out to wet her lips.
I caught her tongue before she could pull it back in.
Her hands roamed against my shirt and then I felt her palm reaching up under my shirt. I raised my arms so she could remove it from my body.
“I’m all in, Scott.” Her gaze piercing me with so much emotion, “You want to tell the world I’m yours, go ahead. I know you’re tired of hiding us. I don’t know how it’s going to be, I’ve stayed away from the limelight for so long, but I want to try for you. I’m willing to try anything for you.”
My heart was filled with so much love for her; I pulled her hands away from touching my chest and held onto them. One by one, I placed a kiss on each knuckle.
“Even anal, babe?” I asked, watching as her eyes changed from looking so serious to giddy.
“That’s….” She paused then her gaze flinging back at me in a challenge, “I’m not ruling it out.”
I punched a fist in the air, bringing her hand along with it, “You’ve made my dreams come true.”
“I thought your dream was to get a championship ring,” she remarked, her hazel eyes turning green under the lights.
“Oh yeah. But anal’s my second.” It wasn’t, but we had a long night and anything to lighten up the situation was appreciated by my own nerves.
“How about we save the anal after you win your second Super Bowl?” She was laughing with me, my smartass (pun intended) girl, deadpanned. Her fingers roamed around my chest and when she flicked my right nipple with her thumb, my cock wanted to jump out of my jeans.
“Second Super Bowl?” I said, my mouth already descending to her neck. “What makes you so sure that I’d be playing for two?”
“Aren’t you?” The certainty in her voice buoyed me. I was confident in my skills, but having a woman who didn’t make me question why I played, why I was away from her most of the time, why I couldn’t take her out on regular dates, was a gem in itself.
My fingers were now massaging her thighs that were still covered in jeans, I asked, “What about the third one?”
“What?” Her eyes were glazed in pleasure as I started to stroke her through her clothes, my other hand under her left bra, rolling a nipple between my thumb and forefinger.
“What do I get when I go for my third Super Bowl?” My voice trembled as she undid the button and zipper of my jeans and her hand snaked inside my boxers. Her grip tightened around my cock and all I wanted was to splay her out on the bed, but I was having so much fun with the foreplay.
Her eyes started to close but she opened them when she answered, “That’s easy, Ice Man. On your third Super Bowl, I ask you to marry me.”
Instead of ice infusing my veins at her words, it was like I was doused with the heat of a thousand suns. I grabbed her head and yanked her lips to mine and didn’t let go until we were both out of breath, “Third Super Bowl, huh?”
Her hair was messed up from my hands, her face was lined with dried tears, but the expression on her face was indescribable, I’d never been so sure that she was made just to be with me.
“Third,” she said, before she put her hands behind her back to undo the button of her top and as her blue lace bra came into my line of sight, I bit on her finger that I had inside my mouth.
I would never forget how she looked right now.
Her creamy breasts exposed for my taking, her eyes hazed in lust, her expression filled with so much desire and love.
I urged my brain to remember everything that had happened today.
There was a lot of good, a bit of messed-up stuff, but mostly greater things worthy of remembering.
The night when she told me that she loved me,
was also the night she dared me to marry her,
on my third trip to the Super Bowl.