“Okay, sorry to kick you out but…” My hand gestures for him to get a move on it as Ford steps out of the closet with a shit eating grin on his face while I’m yanking his giant body down the hall as quickly as possible.
“So, headache, huh?” he says as he smiles once we get to the front door.
My hand lands on my hip and I roll my eyes at his comment before moving to shut the door quietly.
“Goodbye, Anderson.”
“Happy Thanksgiving!” Mia yells as I’m walking into Nate’s to pick him up for the game.
Mia is heading over to her dad’s house today instead of coming to the game, which is understandable since it’s a holiday. Although, she does have this tradition of making cinnamon rolls and watching the Macy's Day Parade and it’s something she’s roped Nate and I into. But I’m not complaining, I’ll devour a pan of cinnamon rolls. I plant a kiss on her cheek as I walk past the kitchen, it smells amazing in here. Give me cinnamon anything and we’re solid.
“Smells good, Mia,” I say before throwing myself on the couch across from Nate.
“Your folks coming to today’s game?” Nate asks, turning his attention to me and then back to the parade.
My parents will be at the game today, which will be nice. I’m pretty sure they’ve only made it to one other one this season. But, my parents are… in a word, exhausting. I know they mean well, but it wasn’t always easy growing up with Howard and Ruby Anderson as your parents. They’re well known around town. They have standing tickets to every home game–if they want to show up, but with their schedules, it’s been hard to see them consistently. My dad is in real estate and even though he doesn’t need to work anymore, he refuses to retire. My mom stays busy with the charities she handles and she started a local organization to help new and upcoming artists get their work out there and noticed.
I try not to complain, growing up I had a pretty good childhood, never wanting for much. Except if you count wanting to spend actual time with your parents. They are great people, but just always keep themselves so busy. Thankfully, I’ve always had sports to keep me in line and the Rec Center to fill my time since my parents were absent so much.
“Yep, heard from them this morning, they’ll be there.” We’ve only got about an hour before we need to leave, so Mia sets the cinnamon rolls and coffee with the cinnamon flavored creamer I fucking love on the coffee table and has a seat on the couch next to me. We watch the parade and eat as much food as we can stomach on game day before heading out.
This is my first time playing on Thanksgiving Day. I’m usually at home watching with the rest of America. Today, we play Detroit, and while I know they’re on a streak, we want this win, we fucking need it. I see Chase walk into the locker room and still can’t believe what happened the other morning with Abby. She literally shoved me in a closet to avoid having him catch us. Although, it’s understandable. Even though Chase is my friend, he wouldn’t be thrilled if he found me like that with his little sister.
“Want to grab that beer tomorrow night?” Chase asks.
“Yeah, sure. Something on your mind or do you just miss me and want to spend time with me?”
I try to get a feel for what this is about since it feels sudden, or maybe that’s just me being paranoid.
“Little of both, I guess.” Huh. Now, my head is spinning.
If he knew something was going on between Abby and me, I’d already have a bloody nose, so it can’t be that. We all finish getting suited up and head out on the field for some warm ups. One hour until game time. Time to get in the zone.
“Mom, traffic is always really bad around the stadium, we need to leave, like five minutes ago!”
My mother, God love her, is one of those women who can’t go anywhere without a full face of makeup. She doesn’t need it and I’ve told her this countless times, but she says it makes her feel good so who am I to shit on something that gives her some confidence? Aunt Joanne and I are standing by the front door as mom comes out of my room and meets us at the door.
“Alright, alright, let’s go!”
Just as I’d predicted, traffic is out of control for this game. We manage to make it into the stadium and into our seats right as they’re doing the player introductions for the starting lineup. Once the lights brighten back up, mom scans the bench looking for number ninety-seven.
“Chase! Chase! Hey, ninety-seven!” My mom and aunt yell from the stands while my focus is on the 6’4 wall of muscle wearing number eighty-seven. I’ll never get over seeing Ford play in person.
“Oh, look honey, there’s Nate too!” she says as she waves her hands. You’d think my mom was just a Tampa groupie with the way she’s acting, but nope, just a very involved and proud mother. Since we’re in the stands for this game, we’re closer to the bench and the guys can definitely see us if they know where to look. Ford, Liam, Nate and Chase are all standing next to one another. Lined up together, they look intimidating, borderline scary even. They’re all easily over six feet and have muscles for days.
Chase notices us and waves which causes a chain reaction and Liam, Nate and Ford all turn around to see who he’s waving at. My hand hesitantly lifts up into a wave and the moment Ford’s eyes lock with mine, my stomach starts fluttering. I bite my lip while attempting to hide a smile and I don’t miss the subtle wink he sends my way before he turns around and the game begins.
* * *
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath as Detroit scores another three points.
We’re down 27-21 and so far, it hasn’t been pretty. They kick off the ball and our special teams makes a decent return run up to the forty-five yard line. Ford jogs onto the field and into the huddle before he lines up for the play. Nate is set up behind Liam, making it look like it’ll be a hand off, but the second the ball is snapped, Nate darts out and provides a block to one of their linemen, which briefly creates a hole that Ford is able to slip through. Once he breaks free and turns his head back to Liam, the ball is in the air. I watch as Ford’s massive body flies down the field. A couple of defenders are right on Ford’s heels, but he’s got a good couple inches on them and as he positions his body to catch the ball, they don’t stand a chance. As soon as the ball lands in his grip, he darts the remaining fifteen yards to the endzone and the crowd erupts.
The guys all run over to Ford and jump to him, slapping his back and yelling out. He fist bumps Liam and tosses the ball back to the ref before jogging over to the sidelines. Everyone on the bench makes their way to him to throw out a “congratulations” and there’s this sense of pride I’m feeling watching it unfold. He’s so good at what he does and he’s so humble about it. It was easy to see he was happy and proud of the play once he took off his helmet, the smile on his face was too big to miss, but he wasn’t overly showy about any of it and somehow, I loved that about him.
“Two minute warning.”
My mom nudges my arm and takes a pull of her beer. She’s been so antsy all game. She’s always been like this actually, every time she watches Chase play. On the edge of her seat, praying for the win.
