Page 34 of Linebacker
As soon as I stepped into the room I was sharing with Lucy, she came rushing out of the bathroom with a makeup brush in one hand and a compact of what looked to be fixer in the other.
“Oh my God. I’ve been texting you, but you didn’t respond. I was worried that you’d stuck each other with a knife or something.” Despite trying desperately to hide the fact that I’d just been well and truly fingered and fucked, she immediately picks up on the change in me. “Oh yeah,” she singsongs when she sees the stupid grin on my face, and how I’m walking with my legs slightly apart because my pussy is still tender from all the delicious penis pounding it’s taken. “Looks like I’m right with the sticking bit, but sure as hell not with a knife,” she wiggles her eyebrows at me. “You two were introducing Dick to Clit, weren’t you?”
“Jesus, Lucy.”
Woah now. What on earth has happened to the shy, nervous young women that greeted me on my very first day here. Oh yeah, she’s been hanging around with me. Bad influence.
I didn’t want to lie to her, so I worded my response carefully. “Where the hell did you pluck that notion from?”
“It’s obvious there’s a connection between the two of you. The way you react with each other. The sly side-eye quick glances when the other isn’t looking. Not to mention the ruse to get me to stalk him with you,” she sniggers. “Research purposes, my ass.”
“You’re seeing things that aren’t even there,” I counter. “And the observation, that’s true, and you know it.”
“Hope,” she sighs. “Stop trying to fool yourself. You might be the expert in picking up body language but I’m not totally clueless. I’ve read enough second chance, enemy to lovers romance books to recognise what’s really going on underneath the banter and snide remarks charade. I don’t know what’s gone on in the past that got you both putting up barriers, but they sure as hell got smashed to smithereens last night.”
“This morning, actually,” I correct her with a smile on my face and a hint of a giggle in my voice. No point trying to hide it; she’s clearly read the signs. Signs I hadn’t seen myself. Bloody hell, maybe I need to go back and redo that part of the syllabus. “A few times actually.”
“Woo-hoo! No wonder you’re walking like a Texas rodeo rider.” Lucy grabs my hand and pulls me over to one of the beds. With firm hands on my shoulders, she guides me to sit on the edge before bouncing down right beside me. “Seeing as being at the morning meeting is optional for us, and we don’t have to be at the stadium until around 1pm, start talking, I want all the juicy details.” Lucy stands, apparently deciding that sitting opposite me rather than beside me is the better option, flopping down on the adjacent bed.
Oh my God. Has this body language thing intrigued her so much that I’ve ended up created a monster?
“But first, I’ve got to know,” A blinding smile takes over her face, and for once, her hands stay firmly by her side. With a wiggle of her eyebrows, the sparkle in her eye is of pure mischief when she asks, “Is his junk in proportion with the rest of his body? Because he’s sure one big mother fucker?”
* * *
“It’s going to be an epic battle on the gridiron today between these two NFL teams, Jeff.”
“It certainly is, Cory. Whoever wins today will be guaranteed a place in the playoffs, and a chance to make it all the way to the Superbowl.”
I hand Lucy her bucket-sized cup of diet coke, and tray of cheese-covered nachos, before falling into the seat beside her.
“We have a record crowd here at the Mile High stadium, and the atmosphere couldn’t be more electric,”the voice of one of the commentators, I think it’s Cory, sounded in my ear, but to be honest, they both sound very similar.
I only have one wireless ear pod in my ear that’s connected to my phone, so I can listen to the banter of Jeff and Cory, while still being able to experience the mega hype of the crowd.
“It’s about to start,” Lucy gushes, her feet doing little giddy stomps on the floor beneath her. “This is so exciting.”
“You go to the games all the time,” I laugh at her over-enthusiastic eagerness.
“Home games, yes. But this is the first away game I’ve ever been to.” She grabs onto my arm, giving it a shake, her face suddenly deadly serious. “I’m not asleep, am I? Please, tell me this isn’t a dream.” I reach out with my free hand and pinch at the skin at the back of the hand that’s still gripping onto my arm. “Ouch!” she cries out.
“Not a dream,” I laugh back at her. She rewards me with a dark scowl, which only makes me laugh all the more.
A voice booms out over the speakers as the usual rigmarole begins.
This bit normally has me fast-forwarding if recorded. You know, the teams coming out, the refs, it’s all a waste of time in my eyes. I’ve often been known to shout at the TV screen to tell them to get the fuck on with it. However, when I see the unmistakable image of Mars as he jogs onto the field, my fucking heart flutters like it’s caging a million and one songbirds that are desperate to fly free.
It should be all about the game and not all the boring stuff in between. I absolutely adore the game, but the breaks in between plays are too drawn out. That’s one thing that’s a major plus on English football, or soccer as they call it over here.
That’s why listening to the commentator makes the breaks in between plays that bit more tolerable. Did I mention that these guys remind me of Ant and Dec? Annoying as shit, but you can’t help but laugh at them.
The coin has been tossed; the Broncos captain calls it and chooses to kick-off to start the game.
The kick is made, the ball is in flight, and the Longhorns Running Back, the one and only T.J. Burress, waves his hand up high to signal a fair catch before receiving the ball, and the crowd go wild.
Game on.
The Longhorns certainly play as a team. They can pre-empt each other’s moves like I’ve never seen in any walk of sport.
