Don't Promise (Don't 3)

My hand slid to her ass. “And what about you?”

Her breath hitched. “Very excited.”

“You’re killing me in this jersey. I want to do so many dirty things to you right now.”

“You do?” Her eyes lit with desire.

“Fuck, yes I do. I love seeing my number stamped on your tits. Everyone in that stadium needs to know you are mine, baby.” My hand roamed under the shirt, sliding to her breasts. “But I’ve got to go.”

I couldn’t be late. I had press. Coaches meetings and then I needed to meet with the team.

She nodded sadly. “We’ll have to celebrate after Hunter goes to bed.”

My mouth landed on hers with a hungry kiss. She had no idea how we were going to celebrate. For the first time in my life I had everything I wanted. It was worth an epic, unforgettable celebration.

36

Julie

This game was more nerve-wracking than the last one. My dad was on one side of me, Hunter on the other, and Pops paced behind us. He had the hardest time watching. Every time there was a play he looked up and then started grumbling.

The Sharks were down by a touchdown with only six minutes left in the fourth quarter. It wasn’t looking good.

I had successfully downed two beers, which was two beers more than I ever drank. It still didn’t take the edge off. I was a complete wreck.

Hunter was worried too. There was a look of fear on his face. I tried to reassure him.

“Kane’s got this. Don’t worry.”

But I didn’t know what I was talking about.

“He has great receivers. Nothing to worry about,” my dad piped in.

I tried to smile, but my stomach was in knots. I wasn’t sure I wasn’t going to throw up. What did I do if they lost? How did I help him through it? Was I built to handle this kind of pressure? I was supposed to be the support system, and yet I was barely keeping it together. Hunter needed me to stay calm and Hawk was going to need me to be his rock when this was over.

“I can’t look,” I whispered.

My dad wrapped an arm around my shoulder. Hawk had the ball. I took a peak through my fingers just as he threw a sharp spiral into the end zone.

We jumped up and down in the box. “Yes!”

The game was tied, but now the ball went back to the other team. If they scored on this drive, we might not have a chance to get the ball back in time.

Hunter was wringing his hands and his feet shuffled back and forth under his recliner. Poor thing. I wished there was something more I could do. We were all on edge. This must be what football families went through every Sunday. Winning was fun. Losing was painful.

I don’t know how it happened but the Badgers couldn’t make it past the third down. They had to punt on fourth down and the Sharks ended up with just over a minute on the clock and the ball on the forty-yard line.

“Come on, Kane. Come on,” Hunter coaxed. His little face was scrunched up in concentration.

I echoed the same words. “Come on. Come on.”

The ball was snapped. I gripped the edge of my seat. Hawk took three steps backward and then he was pummeled to the ground in a vicious tackle.

“Oh my God.”

He bounced up, cursing at the guy who had rushed him.

It was now second down.