“You got it.” The mouthy kid tosses the ball into the air and catches it just as Cam explodes from the line of scrimmage.
Jared jerks his arm back and propels the ball toward Cam, who’s being covered pretty tightly by Kayla. Even though the girl has him by a couple of inches, he’s fast and gets open just in time for the ball to fall into his waiting hands.
“First down,” Jared crows and runs downfield to slap Cam a high five.
“Whatever. That was a lucky throw, QB.” Kayla raises both her hands and Tiger smacks them, then they do this mini routine that includes a lot of hip shaking and hand slapping, like they’ve rehearsed it.
I pull my phone out and begin to record.
“Yeah, QB, is that all you’ve got?” Tiger shit talks the kid in the most PG way possible and it’s adorable.
Longing pulls at me. And not just longing for this woman but longing to play a backyard game of two-below and laugh with these kids. Coach and the owners would kill me, though, if they found out that their hundred-million-dollar man was playing a pick-up game of football in Elva Clayton’s backyard.
A shriek and the twins cheering draws my attention to the homecoming queen streaking toward her goal line. Ball tucked close to her body, her long legs eating up the ground, she looks like a warrior goddess intent on her target. Kayla’s a short distance behind her blocking like a pro.
Tiger charges into the end zone, drops the ball, and proceeds to do the worst touchdown dance I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen some doozies.
“Touchdown!” Clap. Clap. “Touchdown.” Clap. Clap. “Touchdown,” the twins chant in unison.
“Woohoo!” Kayla joins in with the dance.
Jared and Cam look a little shell-shocked. I’m still recording, and I can’t help but laugh.
“She’s not very good at that,” Elva whispers next to me.
“No, she’s not, but what she lacks in technique, she makes up for in terrible choreography.”
Tiger brushes an imaginary piece of lint from her shoulder while looking at me. “What do you say about that, King?”
It’s a direct challenge, and I cannot resist.
I unfold my too-big body from the too-small lawn chair and bound down the steps. “Excuse me, Miss Elva, I have a beauty queen to show up.”
The older lady laughs until she wheezes from lack of air. “Careful of that shoulder.”
I give her a thumbs up as I make my way to the group. “Okay, I’m in,” I announce.
Three heads jerk in my direction. When Tiger smirks, I know I’ve been played. Doesn’t matter. I want in on this stupid game of two-below more than I wanted to play in last year’s championship game.
“Really?” Jared and Cam shout.
At the same time, Kayla yells, “Not fair.”
I hold up my hands. “I’m not on anyone’s team, I’m the quarterback.” I look at the boys. “But, dude, you guys need some help.”
Kayla laughs and slaps Tiger’s outstretched hand.
“You two aren’t any better.”
Tiger’s blonde brows shoot up her forehead. “Um, you did just see that touchdown and awesome celebration dance, right?”
“That was luck. Jared isn’t a quarterback.”
The kid runs to stand in front of me. “Yes, I am.”
“No, you’re not. With your speed and size, you should be playing middle linebacker.”
“My dad says—really?”
I hold my hands up for Tiger to pitch me the ball. But instead of throwing it, she sashays by and jabs it into my stomach. “Heads up.” Her soft whisper blows across my ear and straight to my dick.
“Thanks,” I say on a grunt.
All the kids laugh, except Jared. He’s still waiting for an answer.
“Dude, you’re big, fast, and a little crazy—the perfect middle linebacker.”
He drops his head and chuckles. “Yeah, I am a little crazy.”
“A little?” Cam laughs. “You’re a wild man.”
A goofy smile splits Jared’s face. “Thanks.”
I toss the ball from one hand to the other. “All right, here’s how it’s gonna go down. I’m quarterback for both teams, I’ll throw with my left arm, and unless you’re Tiger, you can’t touch me.”
“Woooooo,” the three kids say together.
Tiger sticks her tongue out at me, but I don’t miss the heat blazing behind her baby blues.
“Okay then, let’s play some football.”
Thirty-Eight
Tiger
I pull into the drive at Wayland Estate behind Cash. The pick-up football game the kids convinced him to play after dinner was called off due to bad weather. We’d only been playing for thirty minutes when a clap of thunder boomed and ended all the fun. Just as well—Cash had no business out there doing