I arrive at Randy’s house full of excitement, hearing Christian’s voice as I exit my car. “I’m just driving Shelby home; be back soon,” he yells. The door opens and out walks Shelby and Christian as I greet them at the bottom of the stairs.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hey,” they both reply.
“How’s your arm?” I ask Christian, noticing his arm is back in the sling.
“It’s a bit sore. I guess the alcohol numbed the pain and I overdid it a little.”
Shelby rolls her eyes, and he playfully pokes her in the ribs. “But it’s feeling better. I’ll be ready for next season.”
I can’t help but snicker at their exchange. “I’ll let my dad know, he’s a big fan.”
“Tell him I said hi.”
“I will, but I was actually thinking that because my dad, Sam, and I are going to the game tonight, that we might go over to the players’ door after,” I surprise myself by saying this out loud, but the more I think about it, the more I like the idea.
“That would be great, it would be good to meet them.” Shelby smiles. “I’ll be waiting there too, so I can meet you where we usually wait if you like?”
“Sounds great!” I nod and rub my chest back and forth. “I can’t believe how nervous I am for you guys.”
“It’s crazy, isn’t it?” Shelby nods. “Last year I had never even seen a game of American football, now I get nauseous hours before kickoff.”
“You’re probably still hungover.”
“Shut up!”
Christian laughs at Shelby’s misery. “The boys are pumped for tonight’s game; no doubt Randy will have the house blasting with music soon, it’s his ‘thing’ to get him fired up before a game,” Christian says, thumbing back toward the house.
Shelby adjusts the backpack on her shoulder. “We missed you yesterday morning. How did you pull up?” Shelby asks as Christian takes the bag off her shoulder and throws it over his good shoulder.
“She means, how did you feel the next morning?” he explains.
“Oh, well, I had arranged for my dad to pick me up early. I knew I would be ready to get home to Sam. But I did not feelwell, it was a struggle to get out of bed. I also may have thrown up on the side of the highway. My poor dad had to quickly pull over. He told me it reminded him of my first trimester and how sick I was.”
They laugh. “Well, welcome to the club because Letti, Dani, and I also thew up.” Walsh was in the shower when I busted in; poor guy was sticking his head out from behind the orange octopus shower curtains asking if I was okay.”
“Then I came in to check on her,” Christian says. “Followed by Randy seeing what all the commotion was about. Poor Walsh was just standing in the shower asking for some privacy and maybe a towel.”
I let out a laugh picturing the situation. “Well, it was a fun night.”
“It really was,” Shelby agrees.
“I know you guys have to go soon, but I just wanted to return Randy’s jacket. I wasn’t sure if he needed it or not,” I say, holding up the jacket.
“He has his jock strap, I think that’s the main thing he needs tonight,” he jokes, then continues. “He’s in the kitchen, go on in. I’m just dropping Shelby off at the dorms so she can get ready.”
“Thank you…should be another epic night. I especially can’t wait to see Shelby’s prize. I told him he needs to spray tan that ass of his.”
They both laugh. “Well, I don’t know if he has done that, but with Randy you never know.”
“Thanks, and even though you’re not playing, good luck tonight.”
After I say goodbye, I make my way up the front stairs; hearing Randy’s voice I take Christian’s advice and head in. Just the sound of his deep masculine voice brings a smile to my faceand causes my heart to race. Being near him, remembering all the passionate moments we have shared, the way he kisses and touches me. I’m so excited to watch his game tonight. Knowing that someone so talented chooses to spend his limited down time with me.
Under constant pressure and scrutiny, he thrives with fierce determination as he pursues his dream. Getting to know Randy has deepened my respect and admiration for him, because it’s not just luck or talent, but consistent hard work. Being at the stadium the last few times and hearing the tens of thousands cheer for him, supporting him, adorned in the team’s colors. They watch his every move, holding their breath as he spirals the ball through the air. So much skill, so much dedication, so much rugged macho sexiness, and win or lose, I get to go home with him.
I smile as I push open the door, catching it before it slams shut behind me.
