I followed them out to the field.
**
As hard as it had been to observe the game from the sidelines, watching all the guys celebrate their come-from-behind win was even harder. I was part of the team, and yet I wasn’t. And though Brody and some of the others tried to include me, it wasn’t the same, and I ended up watching them spray their champagne and listen to the press fawn over the new fan favorite, Luke Fontaine, along with my secret husband. They’d teamed up for the winning touchdown in the last minute of the game. The forty-yard pass that would be talked about for years to come. The fingertip catch by my husband that was already being hailed as one of the greatest in playoff history.
I sat there and clapped, cheering my heart out, but it was a hollow emotion. It had been years since I’d felt this excluded. I watched Brody search the room, and when our eyes met, he joined me.
“Why aren’t you here with the rest of the team?” He dropped to my side, and it was hard as hell not to lay my head on his shoulder. Funny how my misgivings melted away with Brody next to me.
“I don’t belong there. I didn’t play.” The words stuck in my throat.
“That’s some bullshit, and you know it. Dev, you’re the one who got us here. Do you actually think we’d be in the playoffs without your leadership?”
My ego wasn’t big, but damn, it was nice to be stroked. “Luke is doing an incredible job. Kid’s only been playing for two years, and he’s more than risen to the challenge.” I darted a glance at the media crush around him and how he was smiling and answering questions. Much more confident than last week. Like a leader. A chill ran through me, and I shivered.
Was this a foreshadowing of the future?
Brody, always attuned to my moods, nudged me. “He’s good, but he’s no Devil. He’s had two years of sitting on the bench, watching the best and learning. He’s got a great career ahead of him, but there’s only one you.”
“I agree that he’s gonna be a star. He’s got the hands and the instinct. This playoff series has proved it. It wouldn’t surprise me if teams made offers for him during the off-season.”
“I doubt the Kings would let him go unless they got some huge picks out of it. Anyway, I don’t care about him. We’re goin’ to the Super Bowl, and I can’t fucking wait.”
I had no chance to answer as microphones were shoved in my face.
“Dev, can you tell us how you feel?”
“How do you think Luke has handled stepping into your shoes?”
“Do you think you’ll still be with the team next season?”
That question rocked me, and I pretended to laugh. “Unless you know something I don’t, that’s the plan. I’m feeling healthy, and I have no lasting effects from the concussion. I’m here to support my team, and I know they’re gonna take it all the way.” I fist-pumped my arm in the air. “Super Bowl, here we come!”
My teammates’ cheering rose around me, and the reporters continued to make the rounds. Brody was pulled away for more interviews, and I decided to leave and go home, but first, I returned to the field. It was empty now, with only the crew picking up the trash from the stands and the groundskeepers tidying up the grass. My gaze swept over the stadium where I’d accomplished all the dreams I’d had as a kid. Clouds had rolled in, and the sky darkened to a somber charcoal. I shivered and zipped my coat up, then turned and walked away.
**
Super Bowl Sunday
I’d had the choice of sitting in the owner’s box or on the field. Brody’s mom, Ezra, Roe, Fallon, and Troy, Amber, and Jimmy were our guests, along with Vette and Dora Lee. Dante and Lover joined them as well. Maybe I did belong there more, but I needed to be on the field with my team. And as long as the league allowed it, I was staying.
It had been a roller coaster of a game, the lead changing hands at least four times. Luke had made some good plays and some bad ones, but who was I to judge? My first Super Bowl, I was so nervous, I thought I’d wet my pants. Right now it was fourth quarter, we were on defense, and the Wildcats were on our thirty-seven-yard line. It was third and seven, and I knew they were gonna pass.
Their quarterback faded to the left and threw a perfect spiral. Jarvis Malone jumped up and tipped it so it fell short of the receiver.
“Yeah, baby. Way to go.” I clapped furiously.
Fourth down, and they were going for the field goal. It was a long-ass try, but they had one of the best special teams in the league, and they proved it by making it, giving them the lead, 24-21.
They kicked off, and our speed demon, Levar Wilkes, got to midfield. I gave Luke an encouraging clap on the back. “You got this. Doing great.”
“Thanks. I’m trying.”
I shouted out words of encouragement to everyone, trying to get them pumped up. It seemed to work as Luke hit pass after pass and we scored a touchdown. That revved our defense, and we intercepted a pass from the Wildcats and returned it for another score.
With the stadium shaking, I yelled myself hoarse as the clock ticked away and we’d done it. We were Super Bowl champs. I hugged everyone, and we all ran on the field. This was the only time it was appropriate for me to hug and hold on to Brody in public, and I wasn’t about to let that opportunity pass. The press was everywhere, interviewing Luke, who was definitely going to be MVP, and Kendell Watson, who’d intercepted that last pass for the final score.
The field teemed with players, celebrities and others, but I made a beeline for the only person who mattered. I spotted him from behind and jumped him.
