Page 185 of Rush of Jealousy

Penny and I each pick back and forth until our teams—identified by colored mesh shirts—are settled. I choose Nic and Austin to join me on the red team, while Graham, Collins, and Penny are on the blue. The game is adapted based on the number of people we have available to play. Points are earned like normal football—except anyone can score, throw the ball, or pull yellow flags from waistbands. There are no set positions.

“Remember, no tackling,” Nic says, eyeing me and Penny.

“Worried we’ll cheat?” Penny scoffs.

“No,” Graham says sternly. “Worried you guys will hurt yourselves.”

Penny throws her hands up in the air. “Oh, for the love of God!”

I can’t stop giggling. She and I are basically the reason for all Graham’s current anxiety. Neither of us give a damn what he says. And in this moment, a friendship is born.

The game starts with a coin toss, and the blue team has the ball first. Graham catches the snap from Penny and tosses it halfway across the field to Collins, who loses a flag by Nic. Penny catches the snap this time, and Graham charges down the field but misses the catch by a foot, so we start back where the original down last occurred. Next, I chase after Collins who is running toward the end zone with the ball, and as I throw myself forward in pursuit of the flag, I fall hard onto the ground on my stomach.

“Omphf,” I choke out, as my lungs try to recover from the sudden shock.

“Oh no, Miss McFee,” Collins says, picking me up and setting me on my feet. He pulls the yellow tag from his pants. “Here, you had one of my flags.”

I look up at him in confusion and shake my head. “No. No, I didn’t. I missed.”

“But you would have had it.”

I frown. “That is not fair and you know it.”

“You okay, sweetheart?” Graham asks, dusting off some grass from my sweatshirt.

“I think I broke a rib, my middle left toe, and I may even have a concussion,” I deadpan. I hear him curse and I start to giggle. “Graham? I tripped. Let the game proceed. Your team would have scored a point because Collins had a clear path to the end zone.”

“Yeah, seriously, Graham,” Penny huffs, “not all women are fragile flowers.”

The game starts again, and I snap the ball to Austin and then take off down the field, weaving between Graham and Penny as the ball comes barreling through the sky. I jump and reach my hands out as the ball hits against my chest. I clutch it under my arm and dart down the field, with Graham stalking me. I get to where the cones are and jump for joy at my scored touchdown, whooping and throwing my hands into the air.

“Nice!” Penny shouts. “Girl power!”

“Hey! Cheer for your own team!” Graham fake scolds.

The next play involves Collins snapping back to Penny, and Penny throwing it across the field to Graham. He then throws it over to Collins, nearly having it intercepted by Nic. I make my way over to Graham as Collins launches it back to him. I lose my focus and just leap onto Graham’s back and try to get the ball out of his arms.

His chuckle makes me smile as he runs down the field with me perched on his back like a bear cub.

“Pretty sure this is against the rules,” he says, laughing, spinning me in his arms as he scores a touchdown for his team. He squeezes my butt cheeks and growls into my ears. “But I like it."

We play for an hour with the score being close the entire time. Donna’s group text to her kids with a picture of the beautiful carved turkey is what officially ends the game with my team barely in the lead.

“Better get inside before Mom blows a gasket,” Penny says with a big grin. I can tell that seeing his sister happy and functioning has a positive impact on Graham’s mood.

“Take Angie back to the house, Pen,” he says softly. “I want to talk to my men in private.”

“Okay,” she says, drawing out the word.

I look up into Graham’s eyes and can tell he is back in serious mode again. Carefree mode lasted all of sixty minutes.

I follow Penny inside and quickly run up to the room to wash up and put on something less grungy. I settle on a long-sleeved mustard-yellow wrap dress with tiny maroon and white flowers. I brush my hair and add a chunky headband. I rush downstairs and join the family in the kitchen. Graham is the last to come inside, but he only needs a few minutes to change and be ready.

“This looks picture perfect,” I say to Donna, who beams with pride.

“Thank you, my dear. I love all things holidays. So this is fun for me to do.”

The table looks very similar to last night’s display—just more over-the-top with elegance. She really has an eye for it.

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