I forced myself to pay attention in our huddle so I wouldn't commit some football faux pas, but all I got out of it was to run if you had the ball and block the other players if you didn't. The first play was relatively painless since Dean's team had the ball first. A couple of guys on my team tackled Dean before he had run more than a few yards with the ball he had caught. The next play was a complete disaster when I failed to tackle him, allowing him to dance into the end zone.
My teammates booed and hissed at Dean's maneuver.
"Nice, you knew I wouldn't tackle you," I hissed at Dean as he jogged over to me triumphantly.
"Have to take any advantage I can get," he said chuckling before brushing a soft kiss across my cheek.
Before I could think to respond, he was back with his teammates who all high-fived him in celebration.
"Madison, you need to make those tackles," Pete griped when I joined my team.
I merely nodded, gritting my teeth. Whatever, ass hat. I thought as I resisted the urge to give him the one-finger salute. If he wants someone tackled, he could do it himself.
"Boys suck," Trish whispered when he turned away.
"Truth," I said, grateful for her support.
We weren't as successful at scoring as the opposing team, thankfully through no fault of mine at least. Dean's team scored again on their next handoff. This time it was Travis who scored. Pete was practically foaming at the mouth as he barked out orders to us.
"Take a chill pill, Pete," Dean said as we lined up at the line of scrimmage.
"Worry about your own team, dickwad," Pete retorted, obviously taking the game way more seriously than needed.
I watched as Trish and Dean exchanged a look, making it clear I wasn't the only one who thought he was acting like an asshole.
Our team continued to falter as the game progressed. For the most part, the rest of my team didn't care as they horsed around. Pete's mood, on the other hand, continued to deteriorate as we fell further behind. My earlier assumption of him proved to be accurate as he tried to embellish the rules as the game progressed. He griped about penalties, even though it was just for fun, and claimed to be farther down the field than he actually was whenever he got tackled. The mean person in me was secretly pleased that we were losing since his condescending tone was enough to set me teeth on edge.
"It's about time to eat, guys," a petite round woman called from the front of the house.
"One more play, Mom," one of the guys on my team yelled back.
"This is it. We can't win, but we can come out of this without looking like complete pussies," Pete said when we were huddled together. "I think we should hand the ball off to Madison. They won't expect her to have it since she's done nothing but stand around the whole game," he said sarcastically.
How 'bout I just kick you in the face? I thought. It probably wouldn't be the best thing to knock his teeth down his throat in front of so many witnesses. Trish, though, didn't have the same qualms as me as she reached over and socked him hard in the arm.
"You're a prick, Pete," she said after she hit him.
"And you're a bitch," he shot back, glaring at her as he rubbed the spot where she had punched him.
"All right, can we get along for one more play," the guy from earlier said. "Even though he has as much tact as a jackass, Pete's got a point. If we hand the ball off to Madison, we might have a chance of scoring a touchdown. You up for that?" he asked.
"Sure, it's at least worth a try," I lied.
"All right then, let's go out as the losers who didn't give up," he said, slapping me on the back.
Gnashing my teeth together, I didn't allow myself to react to his touch. They were the touchiest freaking people I'd ever met. Was it too much to ask for a germaphobe in the group?
Lining back up at the line of scrimmage for the last time, I immediately saw that our plan would be a bust when Dean lined up directly across from me. He grinned knowingly.
I arched my eyebrows at him, returning his taunt. His eyes never left mine, making my heart thump just a little faster in my chest. I could hear Pete counting down the play off to my left, but the words were more of a nuisance as Dean's eyes continued to suck me in.
I was jerked back to the game when a ball was thrust in my hands and Pete was hissing in my ear to run. Darting around Dean, I took off running with the ball tucked tightly against my chest. Seeing the end zone free of defensive players, I ran full out as exhilaration shot through me. Victory was mine for the taking as I crossed into the end zone.
My triumph was cut short when I was tackled from behind by Dean. Together we crashed to the ground. Dean kept his arms around me to cushion the fall, but the air was still knocked out of me as we landed in a heap.
"You okay?" Dean asked concerned as I gasped slightly for air.
I nodded as air finally made its way into my chest.