Page 17 of Between the Paragraphs

“If you’re hanging with the football party, you have to wear a jersey,” Tom says as he pulls one out of his bag. This makes me shake my head.

“Of course I do,” Maria says, accepting the jersey and slipping it over her blouse. She looks absolutely adorable in it. The only thing better would be her wearing my old number which was retired on my team. I need to get her a jersey. I want her to wear that and nothing else as she sits on my lap.

“You better get some food before these bottomless pits eat it all,” I tell Maria.

“Then I’m grabbing some now. I’m starving. I’ve been running all day without a chance to eat more than a few chips which makes me mean,” she says. She moves to the table, grabs a plate and loads it up, much to the amusement and delight of the guys. They like a woman who will get messy with them and not sit there and eat nothing but lettuce and celery.

The atmosphere doesn’t even shift with Maria in the room. Maria fits our dynamic like a fish to water. I feel myself falling more and more under her spell as she gives as much as she gets interacting with the guys who mean the world to me, only barely behind my brother and my mom. None of the girls I’ve ever dated have fit into the little pieces of my world so perfectly, it’s a surreal feeling to watch it fall into place.

“They really need to do a better job of protecting their quarterback,” Tom mumbles as the man’s tackled for the second time in a row.

“It’s all about the penetration,” Maria says. Tom’s mouth drops open in shock. Maria winks at me and turns her face forward to the game.

“Maybe the quarterback just needs to pump fakes and put one where only the receiver can get it,” Tom says once he gets over his shock.

“Maybe the quarterback needs to take the ball in hand and score on his own merits,” Maria counters.

She turns back to the screen and lets out a whoop, as Tom groans and Kevin shouts “Interception!” I watch with the gang as the defensive lineman pushes past the last player of the other team, right into the endzone for a touchdown.

“Yes!” Maria shouts, pumping her fist in the air. “That’s the second time he’s gone all the way this season.”

“Poor guy,” Tom mumbles quietly. I muffle my chuckle. I could listen to Maria banter with my friends every single day of the week.

“You’re not supposed to cheer for the enemy team,” Kevin exclaims.

“I’m from Seattle, of course I’m going to cheer for them,” Maria responds.

“This must be why Mason likes her,” Jeff whispers to Kevin, though he’s not a quiet man and everyone hears the comment.

“A fellow Seahawks fan?” Maria asks, a wide grin lighting up her face. Her chocolate eyes dancing.

“You should’ve seen the way he mooned over the team the first time we played against them,” Kevin teases. I punch his shoulder and roll my eyes, though I really don’t care if they share anything with Maria. Every experience I’ve ever been through has shaped me into who I am today.

“Little sweet teenage Mason must’ve been so cute,” Maria says. “Tell me more.” Kevin, Nathan, and Tom take turns sharing stories. Regaling Maria with tales of locker-room pranks, field mishaps, and dates gone horribly wrong. Maria hangs onto every word, her eyes alight. Her hand comes to rest on my jean clad thigh, and I can’t help but grin.

“It seems your team likes throwing you under the bus,” Maria says as she smiles at me. Damn, I love her smile. I can’t find anything I don’t like about her. “Are you brave enough to share your most embarrassing football moment?”

“Nope. I don’t think I am,” I tell her with a laugh. She gives me a pouty look. I want to kiss that pout right off of her lips.

“Don’t worry, I have this,” Kevin says. He then gleefully launches into a story about a disastrous fumble of mine that landed me in a pretzel shape on the field.

Maria laughs, loving every moment of my discomfort. “Of course, I can pull it up for you since it was recorded,” Tom says as he pulls out his phone and brings up the video, making Maria laugh even harder. They replay it again before I swipe the phone and toss it on the couch.

“That’s embarrassing,” Maria tells me.

“Yeah, and the guys love replaying my embarrassment over and over again,” I tell her with a shake of my head. “But I have a lot on them too.”

The guys share more stories until I beg them to stop. Maria and I are now sitting on the couch with my arm behind her. Her hand still rests against my thigh. I don’t know if she even realizes it, but I’m not going to point it out and risk losing the contact. I want to reach down and rub her shoulders, but with the guys here I don’t push my luck.

“How did you become a superstar while being such a klutz?” she asks.

“I had some good moments,” I assure her.

“He might’ve had some of the most epic falls, but this man could snag a ball out of the air unlike anyone I know,” Kevin admits. I bump his fist.

“We’ve embarrassed our brother enough for the moment. How about you, Maria? Want to share anything?”

I think she’ll turn away from this challenge, but once again, she surprises me. “I only did track and cross country in high school. Before I knew how uncoordinated I was, I tried out the hurdles and my coach put me into the event for a meet with next to no training. On the very first track meet of the season I slammed into the hurdle, and me and the giant thing rolled into the next lane where we hit the girl next to me. They had to start that whole race over, without me. I decided from then on that I’d just do the running events without any special skills required.”

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