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“Bullshit. Utter bullshit.”

“Agreed.”

Apparently Owen agrees with us because we can see on the screens where he’s saying something to the player opposite of him. The other player leaps forward, shoving Owen back.

Blake gasps. “What the hell are they doing?”

“Oh shit,” I swear under my breath, noticing the last name on the player. It’s Brandon Erikson, the defensive end who hit on Blake two years ago.

Owen shoves him back, knocking Erikson to the ground. Another Falcons player runs at Owen to hit him from the side, and all hell breaks loose.

Whistles are blown, flags are being thrown, and the announcers in the background are going wild at the action on the field.

Blake drops her face into her hands, shaking her head. “I can’t watch. Let me know when it’s over.”

Honestly, I’m glad I made it in time for this.

It takes a few minutes for the referees to break up the brawl on the field, and the only player ejected is Erikson. While there’s a very real chance Owen said something to provoke him, Erikson put hands on Owen first, starting the whole thing.

“Damn, is it bad that I’m a little turned on?” Gina asks, fanning her face, and I grin widely.

“Not bad at all; sex after games is the best kind because their adrenaline is still pumping. Throw in a fight, and I’m sure it guarantees toe-curling stamina,” I point out, and Blake’s cheeks flush a bright red.

“You know, I don’t know if I can handle sitting with both of you at these. It might be too much for my brain to handle,” Blake jokes, pulling out her phone to scroll.

The players are resetting on the field, but there’s a tension in the stadium that is heightened from before the brawl. “I’m going to pretend that you’re paying attention to this huge rival game, and that you didn’t just say that.”

Gina snorts, taking a drink of her cocktail. “She never pays attention.”

“It’s not like there’s a shortage of games. There’s always going to be another one, and like I tell my husband, I love him, but not the sport.”

“You’re ridiculous,” I say, laughing softly, but I respect her for sticking to her guns.

Blake laughs, her eyes shining brightly. “The same could be said about you! You’re always yelling at the refs; wouldn’t it make more sense to be down on the field with your camera?”

“Wait, is that an option? I’d love if they could actually hear some of my insults,” Gina thinks out loud, and it sounds great in theory, but the last time I was down on the field, I ran onto the field.

“You know that Owen and Bash decided I wasn’t allowed to be down there after that incident in college,” I say, rolling my eyes.

Gina peers at me curiously. “What incident in college?”

“She ran onto the field after Bash took a bad hit,” Blake explains, inhaling sharply as she looks at the field at the same time Owen is tackled by two players.

“That looks like it hurt,” I mumble under my breath, holding the edge of the seat as my brother is slow to get up. He’s getting beat up today, and he isn’t getting any younger. A quick close-up on his face shows he’s seething behind a grimace, but he waves off the trainers jogging onto the field to check on him.

“I’m sure it did hurt. This game is brutal,” Gina says.

The fans in the stadium are roaring, and the atmosphere spikes anxiety in me. This rivalry runs deep, but today is being taken to another level.

Our defense thankfully shuts down their last attempt to take the lead, getting the ball back into Sebastian’s hands with only a minute to go. All we need is to get close enough to kick a field goal to ensure our lead, but with how physical the game is, I’m not sure how likely that is.

I expect Bash to play the short game, piece together a few downs just to give us a shot, but my jaw drops as he falls back, launching a beautiful spiral down the field as Owen slips through a gap in the Falcons’ defense, set up perfectly for the throw. Once the ball lands safely in his hands, he takes off down the field like his life depends on it, crossing into the end zone in seconds.

The entire box erupts into cheers, including Blake, the relief infectious. I’m practically jumping in excitement as the clock runs out, and I can only imagine how Owen and Sebastian are feeling right now.

Owen is strutting like a peacock when we find him after he leaves the locker room, but Bash is being interviewed by the press. His smile grows noticeably brighter as he spots me, but he motions subtly for us to go without him. “Man, that was the perfect play to run. I only wish Erikson hadn’t been ejected so I could have seen the look on his face after I ran in that touchdown.”

I roll my eyes at him, shaking my head. “Can’t it be enough that you scored, and you won?”

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