Page 32 of Tackle

“Flattery. Flattery.”

He chuckled, hanging up.

Feet planted shoulder width apart, knees slightly bent, Oz locked eyes with the offense’s tight end. His team was up by seven and with only two minutes left in the game, the defense’s job was to keep the other team from scoring a touchdown so his team could get the ball back and run out the clock. And his job? To keep his eye on the running backs and the quarterback.

“Blue twenty-two.”

Oz’s muscles tensed.

“Blue twenty-two.”

His eyes jumped from player to player.

“Hut. Hut. HUT!”

Everything happened fast, but his brain processed it all. Their tight end and tackle blocked his linemen. One running back rushed forward, the other darted to the right. Oz’s feet moved, going for the running back but he changed course at the last second when a clear shot to the quarterback opened up. He had his arm back, ball ready to fly when Oz tackled him around the waist, bringing him down. He heard the cheers from the stands even over the blood rushing in his ears.

The other team lost enough yards there was no chance in hell for them to try for a field goal. And as expected, they called out their punting team.

Oz got a few back slaps and way-to-gos when he hit the sidelines. Ripping off his helmet, he chugged water between gasps, coming down from his adrenaline high.

The offense went out on the field, and a few minutes later the game was a wrap.

Dressed in slacks, his fancy sneakers, and a button-up shirt and with his bag slung over his shoulder, he followed his team onto the bus and pulled out his phone.

He texted Emerson.

On my way to the airport.

Great game. You should’ve heard this place cheering when you made that sack.

I’m happy we won. Maybe Coach will be in a good mood tomorrow and go light on us at practice.

It’s late. You must be exhausted.

I’ll try to catch a nap on the plane.

Will I see you at the pub tomorrow?

An apocalypse of zombies wouldn’t keep me away.

LOL. I‘ll most likely be asleep, but text me anyway when your flight gets in so I know you made it home safe.

Will do. See you tomorrow.

XO

Oz stared at that kiss and hug all the way to the airport.

It was a little later than his usual time when Oz walked through the door to The Parting Glass. He’d been right, but unfortunately, also wrong. Their coach had been in a good mood over their victory but that hadn’t stopped him from working the team hard. Add that to his jet lag and he was exhausted. But nothing would stop him from seeing Emerson.

She was busy mixing a drink behind the bar, so after returning her smile, he went straight back to his corner booth. It wasn’t long until she was sliding into the booth to sit next to him.

“You look tired.” Her fingers trailed up his jaw to cup the side of his face.

“And you didn’t give me a kiss.”

She smiled, leaning in. He met her halfway, their lips touching.

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