For a long minute I pondered my next text. Then under my breath, I said, “Fuck it,” and texted:
Me: Miss you.
The three dots floated in the bottom of my screen, disappeared, and reappeared before she said:
Taryn: Miss you too. See you soon.
That last one put a smile on my face—one Callahan noticed.
“What are you grinning at? Your team is getting their asses handed to them.”
I glanced up at the big screen to see we were down 21—7 at the two-minute warning. With a shrug, I said, “Yeah, but we have the ball and a killer two-minute drill. Bet we cut that to 21—14 when we go into the half.”
“If your quarterback could find a receiver, you might be right. But so far the only thing your offense has going for it is your speedy running back. No doubt their linebackers will be keying on him at the end of this time-out.”
True to Callahan’s prediction, the Broncos stayed with the run game that hadn’t produced much in the way of points for the past thirty minutes. They ended up kicking a field goal before time expired and went into the half down 21—10. Not insurmountable, but not promising considering their play so far.
Coach Ellis took the opportunity to coach us. “What do you suppose their coaching staff are telling them right now?”
Finn piped up with how the Cowboys needed to continue to play disciplined, filling the gaps and stuffing the run game. Taco Hernandez, our safety, pointed out the flaws in the Broncos’ pass rush that had allowed the Cowboys to pick up some massive chunks of yardage. When Coach asked how Taco would address that, he had some solid coverage ideas that Coach Ellis redirected to Coach Ainsworth to consider in his playbook. Callahan couldn’t help but add his two cents about the Broncos’ quarterback play, but he wasn’t wrong.
Every man in the room who wanted a shot at the next level—which was at least half of us—was a student of the game. When I wasn’t kicking my roommates’ asses inCOD, we were playingMaddenbecause honestly, none of us could ever get enough of football. But when my roommates had explained how the team celebrated Thanksgiving, I didn’t expect that we’d be coached through an NFL game. Yet I had to admit, I enjoyed it.
I would have enjoyed spending the day with Taryn more.
?Chapter Twenty-Seven
?Taryn
TheChristmas parade,with all of its lighted floats and LED-decorated horses and wagons and the little kids squealing for Santa, always delighted me. This year was extra fun with a group of unicyclists, their wheel spokes flickering colored lights, doing daredevil tricks the length of the parade route.
Well, except for that one part when Derek Watson decided to make an appearance.
Tally, Tina, and I were standing in line for hot chocolate from one of the street vendors when a bad feeling shivered over me—one that had nothing to do with the cool evening.
“You decided to leave your cave, Taryn?” Derek sneered.
Refusing to engage, I resolutely maintained my gaze on the chocolatier’s show as he made hot chocolate for the people in front of us.
“Here’s an idea,” Tina said from beside me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw she’d trained her gaze on my nemesis. “Troll someone else. Maybe someone whose boyfriend isn’t a starter for the Wildcats.”
Catching my sister’s feral grin, I had an idea she’d landed her jab.
“The fuck are you talking about, Tina?” The anger in Derek’s tone caused an involuntary lowering of my shoulders.
“Oh, you know.” Her breezy tone was pure mischief. “Danny Chambers. He’s starting in the ’Cats’ playoff game tomorrow.” She planted her hand on her hip. “Did you ever start a game when you played in college?” Her voice was deliberately flirtatious, which of course was a taunt.
I couldn’t elbow her or clamp my hand over her mouth without being obvious. Nor could I shoot her a glare without turning enough to catch Derek’s eye, and I was determined not to do that.
“I still play football,” Derek growled, the sound coming a little too close for my comfort.
“Sure is taking you girls a long time to get hot chocolate. The parade is about to reach us,” Dad said as he joined us. Then his jovial tone changed. “Mr.Watson, you’re standing a little too close to my daughter.”
Derek didn’t say anything, but with the reinforcements of my family, I finally turned and faced him. “Way too close.”
He huffed out a nervous-sounding laugh. “You’re not really dating Danny Chambers.”
“Who I date is none of your business, but one thing you should get through your thick head after all these years: I. Am. Never. Going. Out. With. You.” I enunciated each word. “Not even once.”
