Page 19 of False Start
“Are you Georgie? Hi! I’m Ridley. It’s so nice to meet you, we were wondering if West would let us sit with you. This is Marina behind me, and you’ve already met Cami. Welcome!”
“Hi.” I held my hand up in what I hoped passed for a wave. Ridley seemed like… a lot. But it was nice to feel like someone wanted me to be here. I accepted the seat beside her, and Cami sat beside me.
“Are you all here to support Weston?” I asked.
Ridley tittered, while the other two smiled. “No. Well… I mean, kind of? We all love football anyway, but Cami’s twin is Christian Morales.”
I started at her blankly.
“The quarterback?”
Nothing.
She waved her hand like she could erase my ignorance.
“Anyway, Cami and I have been coming to Christian’s games since college, and Marina is Weston’s neighbor. So, I guess she’s partially here to support Weston, but mostly so the two hooligans can hang out.”
Hooligans? I didn’t want to ask and seem more stupid, so I sat back and tried to look like I belonged.
I could do this. Yup. This was me… sitting with women I’d just met, about to watch some football.
For the first time in years, I wished Duckie was here. She loved all kinds of sports, and would happily tell me what the hell the difference was between a wide receiver and a tight end.
Why did so many football terms sound dirty?
“So… is Cami short for anything?” I asked, searching for a safe conversation. She grunted, keeping her eyes on the field where men in teal and silver were running onto the field.
“Camryn. But never use that name unless you want to be punched in the box so hard Weston will be crying into his lonely hand for the next calendar year while you’re out of service.”
I blinked.
“Noted. That was oddly specific.”
Ridley threw back her head, candy-colored curls bouncing as she laughed. This close, she smelled like candy too. Watermelon jolly ranchers.
“Ignore her,” she said, grinning, as she patted my forearm. “Cami’s a girl’s girl, but violence is always her first answer. It’s how she keeps up with her twin.”
Cami huffed, sitting straighter as a roar went up outside our box and men in dark red and gold jerseys jogged onto the field. Towering above his team mates, Weston looked like even more of a giant than usual decked out in his pads and wearing obscenely tight pants. His ass looked good enough to bite.
“I don’t need to keep up with him. If he pisses me off, I just nail him in the balls and leave him to cry into his groupies ample—heeey girls. Where did you run off to?”
Two tiny humans popped up behind our seats with hands full of pastries they’d liberated from the buffet.
So these must be the hooligans.
“Can I nail someone in the balls?” the darker haired of the two asked. She looked a lot like Cami, but I didn’t get a mother/daughter vibe.
“Definitely, but only if they deserve it, and you don’t tell your father I gave you permission.”
“Deal.”
“No deal,” Marina interrupted, dividing a glare between the two girls. I couldn’t place her accent, though she sounded a lot like Margot Robbie when I saw her press tour for theBarbiemovie. I wanted to ask, but after Cami’s threat, I decided it might be safer to just observe for now. They all seemed to be super tight and I didn’t want to offend them. I’d never really had girlfriends before, but maybe I could change that with these women.
“Game’s starting,” Cami announced, and everyone settled in to watch.
“Holy shit!”I screamed, as Weston threw himself at the tank of a San Francisco player who had been barreling toward Cami’s brother. The men went down hard in a tangle of limbs, and I jumped to my feet, breath caught in my throat as I waited for him to get up off the ground.
Weston’s block cleared the way for Christian’s throw, and a moment later a player wearing Chicago colors came hurtling down the grass toward us. A few steps shy of the end zone, the wide receiver for the Engines launched himself through the air and caught the ball one handed, evading the grasp of two San Francisco players as he landed across the line.
