Page 83 of The Anaconda Downstairs

We hurried to the line, Chris calling out a good old-fashioned hitch and go play. I knew my role, block for Chris so he could throw it to Hayes who was going to run the hell out of that ball when he caught it. As the ball snapped, I charged forward, engaging the cornerback. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Hayes streaking down the sideline. Chris gave a good fake pump, catching the cornerback's attention, but I held him at bay. Then Chris threw a beautiful pass into the air.

The ball arced, a perfect spiral headed down the line. Hayes leapt, snatching it out of the air over the outstretched arms of two of the Presidents. He landed and took off, his legs pumping furiously.

I disengaged from my block and sprinted after him. A linebacker was closing in, but I threw myself in his path, feeling the impact rattle my bones as Hayes zoomed past.

The roar of the crowd was deafening as Hayes crossed into the end zone. Touchdown. We'd tied it up.

But we weren't done yet. Dion Prince, our kicker, and the special team jogged onto the field for the extra point. The stadium fell eerily quiet as he lined up the kick. This was it. Everything came down to this one moment.

The snap was clean. The hold was perfect. Dion's foot connected with a solid thud.

The ball sailed through the air, curving slightly to the left. For a heart-stopping moment, I thought it might go wide. But it snuck just inside the upright.

Good for one god blessed extra point.

The stadium exploded. We'd done it. We'd won the Bowl.

The next few minutes were a blur of pure, unadulterated joy. I found myself in the middle of a massive group hug with my teammates, all of us yelling incoherently. Water and green sports drink rained down on us, courtesy of the rookies, and I couldn't stop grinning even as the icy liquid drenched me.

“Hell yeah,” Chris shouted in my ear, his arm around my shoulders. “We fucking did it.”

I could only nod, too overcome with emotion to form words. This was ring number two for Chris and Declan and the first for me and Hayes. It's what we'd all dreamed of since we were kids throwing a football around in the backyard. And now, here we were, champions.

That initial frenzy began to die down, and friends, family, and fans filled the field. I scanned the crowd, looking for one face in particular, my girl. Where was Penelope? I needed to see her, to share this moment with her. She was the only thing that would make this night even better, and I couldn't imagine celebrating without her.

Finally, I spotted her. Penelope and Kelsey surrounded by Kels’s security were making their way onto the field with Jules, Trixie, Willa, and my dad and brothers. I broke away from the cameras in my face and ran towards my woman.

“Pen,” I shouted, scooping her up in my arms and spinning her around. She laughed, her arms wrapping tightly around my neck.

“You did it, Ev.” she exclaimed, her eyes shining with tears of happiness. “I'm so happy for you. That was one of the coolest things I've ever seen.”

I set her down gently, cupping her face in my hands, and kissed her. Cameras flashed around us, someone whistled, and I didn't care one bit. This was the cherry on top of my football sundae, and it was the best part.

When I broke the kiss, we were engulfed in a massive family hug. My dad gathered us all around him.

“Boys,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion as he pulled Chris, Declan, Hayes, and me into a tight embrace. “I'm real fucking proud of the way you played today. Your mom would have enjoyed the hell out of this game.”

My throat went tight and tingly at his words. She would have, I knew. Not just because of the game, but because of everything else we'd accomplished today too.

“Hey, Kingmans, Declan, Everett,” A reporter approached us, her cameraman in tow. “Can we get a quick word about the KnightWear and Swoosh commercials? They're already generating a lot of buzz online.”

Declan and I exchanged a look. We'd hoped this was coming, and we knew we'd likely be getting extra media attention in part because of Kelsey's fame, but we also wanted to be sure we could direct the discourse if it started out on the field instead of at the after game press conference. Our girls were vulnerable, and no way either of us were going to let them take any pot shots at them.

But I'd interacted with this reporter a few times. She knew her shit and didn't cause any. I liked her. “Of course,” I said, turning to face the camera. Penelope squeezed my hand supportively.

“The commercial... it means a lot to me,” I began, choosing my words carefully. “It's about more than just clothes or evenbody positivity. It's about honoring my mom's memory and the lessons she taught us about self-love and acceptance.”

We all got distracted with a huge commotion up in the stands, near the suites. Some guy was hanging out the windows, yelling and screaming about something. Security guards were struggling to pull him down. Some attention seeking asshole whose team probably just lost. But my stomach dropped when I recognized the figure.

Odin.

He was shouting something that no one but those hard-working security guards were going to be able to hear over the general noise of the stadium. I quickly turned away from the cameras and leaned down to talk to Pen without her answer needing to be on camera. “Did you know he was here?”

She gave me an eyeroll so big she might have sprained her brain. “Yeah. He and the FabFlex people were in the suite next to us, making a ruckus. But your dad took care of it.”

Oh, I couldn't wait to hear this story. “Who or what the hell is FlabbyFlex?”

Pen laughed. “Exactly.”

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