Page 53 of Forever Cursed

“We’re going to play catch,” he shouts back, stopping at the 30 yard line.

“It’s going to rain,” I state while gesturing toward the sky.

“And?” He shrugs before pointing at the twenty yard line.

I scrunch my lips, and he laughs harder. “Get over there.”

“Fine,” I groan with a playful tone.

I plant myself on the line and place my fingers on the stitching.

“Don’t judge me. I’m not a pro like a certain friend of mine,” I tease.

I throw my arm back and launch the ball, far from surprised when he catches it with ease.

“Not bad.” He nods in approval before tossing the ball back to me.

Scrambling to the right, I miss it by a hair. “You did that on purpose,” I giggle as I reach to pick it up.

“Who me? Never,” he chuckles.

Without giving him time to prepare, I hurl the ball as hard and long as I can down the field. With a simple leap, Rome catches it and lands gracefully.

“Oh, is that how you wanna play?” he asks with a hint of cockiness and amusement in his tone.

Rain starts trickling down, landing on my cheek and sliding toward my lips.

“It’s funny that you think I stand a chance against you,” I tell him with a snicker as more droplets come down.

“You can keep up with me. Want me to prove it to you?”

I eye him suspiciously as he smiles wider. “Go long.”

Before I can comprehend what he means, he takes a few steps back and then, with a running start, hurls the ball down the field.

“Oh, shit,” I mumble before running as fast as I can to chase after it.

My legs carry me down the field in a sprint. I’m not a fast runner and certainly far from fit, so when I pick up speed and my hair billows behind me, I’m shocked. The football starts to lose momentum, and I try to gauge where it will land. Putting myself under it, I jump and catch it against my chest. My feet meet the ground, and I smile wide when I look at Rome.

“I did it!” I cheer as giddiness courses through me.

“That’s my girl!” He beams and claps as he runs toward me.

“Holy shit,” I mutter in disbelief while looking down at the ball.

I now know why football players celebrate when they catch the ball in the end zone. Why they throw it down and dance like there’s no tomorrow. I want to do just that, but Rome crashes into me.

I drop the ball when he wraps his arms around my waist, lifting me in the air and spinning me around. I embrace him, securing my arms around his neck and squealing.

The summer rain continues to drizzle down, dampening our hair and shirts.

Rome slows, our eyes lock, and our grins soften in an instant.

I become aware of his strong pecs against my breasts, his muscular arms hugging my lean waist.

Air hitches in my throat, and Rome licks his lips as he admires me.

“You surprise me every day, you know that, right?” he whispers.

---