this woman?
17
Jurnee
After two days of boring contract discussions and shameless flirting from both of us, I decided to show Anderson how to be spontaneous. Cashing in all the frequent flyer miles I had been collecting for years on a credit card, and maxing said credit card, was worth Anderson’s excitement. By the time we landed in Detroit and merged on the highway in the rental car, he was pointing and asking questions about everything, barely leaving me time to explain. It was fun to see him as a tourist in my state.
Anderson walked out of the Michigan State University student bookstore wearing a brand-new t-shirt, sweatshirt, and a baseball hat. Carrying his bag of Spartan gear and the shirt he wore on the plane, Anderson studied the buildings of downtown East Lansing as we walked toward Erickson Hall and the site of my tailgate.
I laughed as he pointed the large green and white foam finger at one of the large white corporate tailgates. It had occurred to me about midway into our shopping trip that he may have been trying to find just the right gear to blend in. I waited to tell him that it didn’t matter what he wore; we would accept him in Spartan country no matter what.
“I can’t believe you didn’t want one of these.” He held up the foam finger.
“That’s all you, my friend.”
“Are there always this many people here this early?”
“GO WHITE!” I yelled as we walked by another rowdy group of tailgaters. “There may be a few more people because of homecoming, but it’s pretty much always like this.”
We walked the rest of the way to my tailgate location in silence. The fact that we were in Michigan, going to the game, and he was here with me was just beginning to sink in. I stole a glance in his direction and took a deep breath, realizing my growing feelings were at a level that I could hardly suppress.
He pulled his hat down over his eyes. The clerk at the bookstore had gasped when she turned to see him. When he went to the bathroom, she asked if he was real. I laughed it off, but her question was a valid one. Could he really be this good-looking, kind, and into me?
“JURNEE!”
Anderson stepped protectively in front of me. I wrapped my arms around him from behind and looked up. He slowly lowered his lips to within an inch of mine, pausing before giving me a gentle kiss. Everything faded away and I was left with Anderson overwhelming all my senses. It was not lost on me that I was beginning to feel a new sense of contentment when I was with him.
As we stood on the campus, I wanted to be somewhere else. Somewhere alone with this man that had come into my life in such a strange way, but that now I couldn’t get enough of.
With his lips hovering over mine, I smiled. “These are my people, but thank you for being my big, sexy protector.”
“Sexy, huh?”
“No doubt, and you already know it.”
“I was wondering when you were going to see it.” He winked.
“Let’s go.” I grabbed the hand that wasn’t shoved into a foam finger and pulled him toward my friends. “Time to get our tailgate on.”
“Floyd said you weren’t coming, but I knew better.” My second longest tailgate friend, Daryl came strolling toward us with a couple red solo cups in his hand. “I’m Daryl. Go Green!”
“Thanks, Anderson Douglas.”
“Go white.” I nudged Anderson, who chuckled as I continued. “It was a spur-of-the-moment decision to fly back.”
“One might even call it spontaneous,” Anderson said into the cup so only I could hear him. “What is this?”
“Happy Harvest Rum Punch.” Daryl pulled up his pants that were covered with an oversized MSU logo. He looked back at the tailgate area. “Deegan showed up, and he brought someone.”
I felt Anderson’s stare and controlled my response, “He came to my tailgate with a date?”
Daryl nodded. Anderson said nothing, but I knew he was measuring my reaction.
“Well, that was kind of him, wasn’t it?” I chugged the drink Daryl had handed me and was ready for a refill. Something told me this was going to be one of those several refills type of tailgate. I headed for the site. “Is the food ready?”
“There’s food too?” The excitement in Anderson’s face reassured me that this had been a good idea.
“Where are you from?” Daryl stopped and turned toward us.
“New York City.”
“Ah. That makes sense.” Daryl continued