“Just a ball game is fine. I’m notthathigh-maintenance.” My chest rumbles with barely contained laughter. It feels like I’m living in a fairy tale.
“Let me make a call. Do you want box seats or stadium seats?”
“You ask that question as if I know the difference. Whichever ones you want is fine with me.” A wide grin tugs at my cheeks. I can feel the excitement already building.
He chuckles, bringing his lips up to mine. “With this level of enthusiasm, you’re going to want stadium seats.”
“Whatever you say, boss.”
He growls against my lips. “You know what it does to me when you call me that.”
I pull his bottom lip into my mouth, giving it a small tug. “I can’t seem to remember. Maybe you need to show me again.”
Damian flips me onto my back playfully. The surprise of it makes me laugh out loud. His hard body covers mine, his eyes shining with laughter.
“Maybe I need to teach you a lesson so you don’t forget next time.”
“Maybe you do, boss.”
I can’t believe I’m at the historic Hawks Stadium. The crowd of people is insane. The Hawks have been killing it the last few years, their winning streak one of legends. And because of that, the stadium is filled with overexcited, overintoxicated fans.
I am in love with every second of it.
Damian and I shuffle through the throng of people packed in the concourse. Concession stands selling outrageously expensive hot dogs, sodas, and pretzels have lines a mile long. Damian cuts through one of the lines, and he reaches his arm out behind him to grab my hand.
“Oh my God, I can’t believe how many people are here,” I exclaim.
“Yeah,” he grumbles. “Stay close. I don’t want to lose you.”
His glower doesn’t have the same effect underneath his Hawks ball cap. I adjust the hat on my head as well as Damian threads us through the crowd.
As soon as we got to the stadium earlier, I made Damian take me to the pro shop so I could get a hat or a shirt or something to show my support. Damian, being Damian, got me both, plus a New England Hawks water bottle. I made him get a hat for himself, too. It is essential for the experience, in my opinion. Much like the foot-long hot dog I’ll be eating later.
Damian finds the right entrance to the stadium and starts to head down the stairs.
And then down further.
And then a little more.
“Where are our seats? We’re going to be on the field if we get any closer.”
“I could only get us Row C on such short notice, but they were down the first-base line, so I figured we would make it work.”
I laugh as Damian finds our row. We shuffle through a few folks who had already taken their seats with muttered “sorrys” and “excuse me’s.”
As soon as we are in our seats, I lean in to give him a kiss. “Thank you, babe. This is amazing.”
He studies me for a minute, an expression I can’t identify on his face, before he smiles and kisses me again. “I’m happy to. Let’s just hope the Hawks win for you.”
“Did you not call in that favor ahead of time? Really, I’m surprised to find you slacking like that.” I lean against him. His arm wraps around my shoulder.
“Oh, they know,” he jokes.
The warm, late May sun beats down on us, making the last few days of spring feel like summer. The first walkout song starts, and I’m almost out of my chair with excitement.
“That’s the other team,” Damian laughs.
“I know, but this is just so cool.”
