Page 126 of The Way We Score

“We’re not going to win this without that opening, Grizz.”

“I’m doing my best, Chuck.”

“I’m going to send it to Ricky.” He slaps my back, and we jog to the line. “Make it happen, then you can focus on your plan.”

Shaking my head, I go to the line. I’m thinking about my plan, but it’s not keeping me from playing well. It’s the fucking truck across from me.

I take a few steps back. Maybe if I get a little speed before I hit him, I’ll actually move him out of the way.

The ball snaps, and I dig in with my feet, charging towards my guy. His eyes are lit when he sees me coming, but something happens. I don’t see what it is, but he goes down right in front of me.

I’m flying on momentum, and I throw up my legs, jumping clear over him when I realize I’m across the goal line. I spin around, and my eyes lock with Charlie’s. Guys are scrambling all over the field, it’s chaos on every side, but I’m wide open.

Charlie’s under pressure. A big guy is headed straight at him, but he pulls back and fires the ball, fast as a bullet to where I’m standing. Time stops, silence falls around me. I’m solid in my stance, but in my peripheral vision, I see 59 is up and barreling at me.

My chest is tight. When he hits, it’s gonna hurt, but I’ve got this. He’s behind the ball, and I only have to stretch out my hands… and pluck it out of the air as the clock runs down.

The minute it hits my chest, 59 plows into me, sending me to the turf, but I don’t drop the ball.

It’s the winning play of the game, and the stadium explodes.

I’m only on my back long enough to catch a breath when two guys grab my arms and haul me to my feet. One of them actually tries to lift me.

Fans are screaming, jumping up and down, and hugging each other. Blinking around, I get my bearings just in time to see Charlie running to jump onto my back.

I take a staggering step forward as he laughs, yelling in my ear. “Whatever else happens tonight, that play’s going in the books!”

It’s true. Linemen pretty much never score touchdowns. It’s not our job.

Charlie laughs, pulling my shoulder pads and doing a dance. Shaking my head, I’m still getting over that last-ditch effort by 59. It’s going to leave a bruise.

His helmet’s off, and he’s holding up a hand and smiling. “Glad I could send you home a hero.”

“Did you trip?” We slap hands, and he shakes his head.

“Stepped on one of my guys.”

Navy and red confetti falls thick onto the field, and I’m surrounded by sports reporters. It’s a full-on celebration, and while that was a historic play, it’s seriously fucking with my plan.

A mic is in my face, and they want to know if Charlie and I planned it.No. When did I know I was going to score the winning goal?When it landed in my hands.

I’m taller than everyone, and I’m straining, looking for Fred, trying to see if Liv is down here, searching for Charlie. He steps up beside me, slapping me on the back right when I spot her on the sidelines smiling big.

Fred stands behind her, and I push through the throng to where she’s standing, one hand on her stomach. When I get to her, I bend down so she can hug me. Our teeth bump as we smile through the kiss, and I take a step back.

“You are amazing!” she yells.

Fred holds out his hand, and I take the blue box from him. Going down on one knee, I’m still at Liv’s waist. When I look up at her, her eyes are wide.

“That day in the henhouse, you asked me when…” I have to shout over the noise, and it’s making me second-guess my plan.

Too late to change it now.

“What are you doing?” She steps forward, putting her hand on my shoulder.

At this point, the players around us notice what’s happening. I don’t have much time before all eyes and cameras will be on us, and I need to say this.

“I know you can’t marry me because we’re pregnant.” She’s close enough, bending down so I don’t have to yell as loud. “Marry me because I love you, Liv. Because you love me, and these past months have been the best months of our lives. We got it back, Liv…”

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