Page 58 of Blitz
Impression made.
We played hard, crushing the Stars with a defensive squad that their offense could not slow. Exhausted and soaked in sweat, we were up 35–14 with two minutes left in the third when Tyrese did what he does best. Second and seventeen, he found himself under some pressure from the Stars defense and jogged to his right. Spying his fave receiver, Jolie Biggs, open along the sidelines, Ty passed the ball. Jolie leapt into the air, caught it, then juked around two Stars defenders to sprint down the field to score. I took that as a sign.
The fourth quarter was all Pumas. I got my fingertips on a wobbly shuttle from Gerome. The tip sent the ball into the belly of one of my defensive linemen who fell on it, then jumped up to hold the fumbled ball over his head. That sealed the fate of the Stars, although I’d sensed they were done from that first play when I’d smooshed Gerome’s face into the dirt.
The fans grew louder and louder as Ty began taking a knee with less than a minute left in the fourth. When there were fifteen seconds left, we dumped a cooler of energy drink over Coach’s head as was tradition. He sputtered and laughed as the clock ran out. I hugged Coach. I hugged Tucker. I hugged a cameraman. Shit, I was crying and laughing and embracing every damn person who came near me. The crush after the final fireworks was stifling, to say the least. With all the celebrations that followed that decisive win, I could only think of how nice it would be to have Trick down here with me.
Reporters pushed in around us, many asking how we felt. Like, seriously, what a dumb question. We felt great! We were the champs. We had spiffy new hats on our sweaty heads that even said so. While I was chatting with a pretty lady reporter, she gave me a wink and asked what is usually asked of the MVP, which was Tyrese. Ty totally earned that recognition, but a nod to the D wouldn’t have gone amiss voting fans and media panel. Just saying.
“What do you plan to do after the Super Bowl?” she shouted as she glanced up at me.
I stared into the camera and gave the biggest shit-eating grin I had.
“I’m going to Hawaii with my boyfriend!” I hoped Trick was watching the interview.
Turned out he had seen my face on the scoreboard telling the world my plans. I knew that because he wiggled into the locker room after the win, smiling, looking about as good as any man I had ever seen before. Just as the other guys squeezed and kissed their wives, I pulled Trick into my arms, kissed him soundly, then poured champagne over his head. My family piled in as well, shouting and whooping it up in true Fulkowski style. Mom was crying, which was so very much my stepmother. She would be a wreck when her boys got married.
He coughed as he wiped bubbly from his lashes.
“I owe you a dousing when we win the Cup,” he sputtered, and I agreed to that without question.
He could dump fizzy drink over me whenever he wanted. I’d be there for his wins and his losses for as long as he wanted me at his side. I was going nowhere. Well, that was a lie, Iwasgoing somewhere, and he was coming with me…
I’d seena lot of beautiful things in my life, but nothing could compare with the light of a pink Kauai sunset on Trick’s whiskery cheeks. I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he lounged on the sand, his toes in the surf. He was a changed man. Totally. And I loved that I had been there to watch him rise from the ashes of his past like a glorious phoenix. He smiled now, a lot,and laughed a lot, and was finding his path in life as a queer man. Openly queer and so damn proud of himself.
“I can feel you staring at me.” He lay spread out on the beach of our private little romantic rental. It had cost us nothing as it belonged to a rapper friend of his. So, we had left the family behind after a week on Oahu, then flown here to do a week of nothing but hike, swim, and have sex. Trick was chill as a cucumber, his spirits high even though the Railers had been knocked out in the second round of the playoffs. He’d been down for a few days, but knew in his heart of hearts, they’d be back stronger and tougher next season. I knew it as well.
I did not rub my shiny new championship ring under his nose. Much. He’d get his. Besides, I had a different kind of ring I wanted to show him, and it had nothing to do with sports. But not now. It was too soon.
“You’re pretty, I can’t help it.” I ran my hand down Winnie’s back as we relaxed on a chaise lounge while the palm trees swayed and huffed as Wink rolled on his back to get some sun on his belly. I immediately covered his soft bits with a towel and scooted him in the shade. Trick had adopted the one-eyed sweetheart just before Christmas, a few days after confronting Pastor Cole. He said Wink deserved a good home and told me that he knew he was a good person.
It was a turning point.
The moment Trick accepted he was good and right and loved.
So, our family of him, me, and Winnie, now included Wink. Not forgetting Rebecca, who was another constant in my man’s life.
“I like it here. They got any hockey teams you could ask to be traded to. No snow. That would make you happy. And all the pineapple you can eat.”
He’d eaten far too much pineapple for one man in the past ten days.
“I don’t think they have a pro team.” He yawned and stretched, arms over his head. I drank in all that pale flesh bathed in flamingo tones. “Besides, I like it in Harrisburg. I’m feeling it there, you know?”
“I know.” And I did. He and the team were gelling slowly. He was happy. And no matter how much I loved this island, I didn’t want to mar his happiness by being greedy. “I’m going to sell my place in Jersey and buy a summer home here.” He rolled his head to study me through his spiffy shades. “I’m serious. I don’t want to be in Jersey. That’s too far for you to travel during the season. I want us to be together.”
“Like live together?” he asked. I nodded. Winnie licked my fingers, so I resumed petting the princess. “That’s… big.”
“I know. Does it scare you?”
He went back to looking skyward. I wasn’t sure if his eyes were open or not. From down the beach, the soft sounds of a local band filled the warm air. We’d spent a few nights at the Seabird’s Song having dinner and listening to the native musicians. Seriously, this place was paradise. I know that was said about the islands all the time, but it is the absolute truth.
“Not really. Scared is strong. I was scared of my father.”
Not anymore though. Big Daddy Pastor Man was in prison with no bail as he was a huge flight risk, all his assets had been seized, and I for one was happier than a seagull with a French fry. I’d done my best to not get riled up as the legal proceedings began, but patience wasn’t always my strongest suit. Justice for Trick could not come soon enough.
“It’s just a big step.” He rolled to his side, the towel under him wadding up as he moved to his hip and rested his head in his hand. “Are you so sure you want to do something like that with me? I’m not the most stable guy.”
“Stop that. That’s your father talking. You’re the most steady man I know. And I love you and want to be with you, and Winnie wants a house with you in it too.”
