I grimaced. It was sad if some bullies stopped a kid from doing something he enjoyed, no matter what it was. Well, not if he enjoyed torturing animals. That should definitely be stopped. But dancing, that was a great form of exercise and self expression. Says the woman with two left feet. That didn't stop me from trying, when the occasion arose. I hadn't broken any partners’ toes. Yet. Plus, there were so many famous male dancers; ballroom, contemporary, ballet, even pop.
"If Conrad was a dancer, they'd leave Hamish alone," Vera said. "They'd see a man can be a dancer and a badass."
I couldn't help but smile at the thought of Hawk in a tight leotard, leaping across the stage, graceful and strong. Mostly I thought about the lycra, tight around his groin…
I swallowed and hoped my face wasn't too red.
"I can hear you, y'know," Hamish said over his shoulder. "Dance ishard."
"Life is hard, son," Brody said, sounding like an old man.
Hamish looked back and rolled his eyes. "Sure, Dad." He turned back around.
Brody shrugged. "I tried."
"Conrad has the ball again!" Gertie shouted.
Hamish swatted her. "Don't shout in my ear."
She stuck her mouth right next to his ear and shouted, "Why?" loud enough to make me wince.
"Hey! Mom!"
"That's enough," Vera said. "Don't make Daddy and I take you home."
I wasn't sure who looked more upset at that suggestion, Brody or the kids.
"I'll be good," Brody said.
Vera rolled her eyes at him. "I've heard that before. About nine months ago."
He wiggled his brows at her.
They were so cute together. I envied how comfortable they were with each other. Could Hawk and I be like that some day? Maybe not with four, nearly five, kids. Two or three would do me just fine.
How many would Hawk want? Did he even want children? I had no idea.
He threw the ball. Number eight, the wide receiver, neatly caught it. He started off at a run that reminded me of a gazelle fleeing a lion. He ducked and wove around the opposition players before they knew he was there.
The stadium was on its feet, as well as everyone in the private box. I held my breath until a Boar came almost out of nowhere and made to grab number eight.
With footwork worthy of a ballet dancer, he skirted neatly around, avoiding Boar number six by a hair.
A moment later, the board flashed again, 'Touchdown!' and the crowd went crazy.
"We're winning!" Hamish shouted.
What a difference a few minutes makes.
A few minutes more and the crowd jeered when a Boar tripped Hawk. I couldn't tell if it was deliberate or not, but he went down hard.
The crowd was furious. For a moment I thought they might erupt.
Hawk climbed to his feet and waved to the crowd quickly before he got back in position.
I thought that was the end of it, until he rammed his shoulder into the stomach of the guy who tripped him.
They both went down in a thunder of cheers, but the referee blew his whistle and waved at them to separate.
