Page 80 of Fumbling for Perfection

For a big man, he’s quick and agile on his feet. He reads the holes in the defense and plows right through as if the Red Sea is parting for him. There are dozens and dozens of clips of him running with two, sometimes three defenders hanging off him while he pushes for a few more yards.

His athleticism and humility are awe inspiring.

“Need a napkin for that drool of yours?” Rowan snickers in my ear.

I tear my attention away from Walker and make a show of slurping up my hypothetical drool.

“You sure you still want to keep things at friend status?” Kendall asks.

“Keep? We’re not even there yet.”

“Whose fault is that?” Jackson leans over and asks.

I reach around Kendall and push him away. “I’m trying. Your brother is being difficult. I can’t promise him anything more than friendship, but he won’t even talk to me.”

“Hm.” Jackson tips his chin.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He feigns innocence. “Nothing, my dear finicky friend. Absolutely nothing.”

“I’m not finicky.”

Rowan and Kendall snort and Jackson squinches his face as if I said something horrid.

“Hey. Leave me alone. I’m trying to figure out what I want.”

“His booty and constant booty calls or date nights with Mr. Big.”

“Ew. Don’t call her vibrator that.” Rowan scolds Kendall.

“You call your vibrator Mr. Big?” Jackson asks and winces his head back.

From the corner of my eye, I can see the four men sitting behind us lean closer to our conversation.

“Ignore them.” Rowan pats my hand. “Follow your heart, Riley. Forget what everyone else says.”

My heart says to leap over the railing and run out onto the field and pounce on Walker, planting my mouth on his and grabbing that delectable ass with my hands.

My head tells me not to. Not only because I’ll surely get arrested, but because that won’t bring him any closer to wanting a family. He wants to get laid. I do too. But I want to sleep with someone forever, not for the time being.

The players slowly come over to the sidelines, and the stands start to fill up with tailgaters who were enjoying their cheap beer in the parking lot. Taylor, who is sitting at the end of our row, stands.

“I’m going to grab some drinks. What would you guys like?”

Kendall and Jackson aren’t shy about spitting out their order while Rowan and I pass on the offer. We’re close enough that I can see Walker’s mouth move as he talks to his teammates, but I can’t hear him. A few minutes later, the team jogs off to the locker room.

Rowan, Kendall, and I pretend we’re at karaoke and sing along to Bon Jovi, Journey, and Tom Petty. By the time Taylor comes back with everyone’s drinks, including beers for Rowan and I, which we accept, the team is jumping around in their tunnel waiting to be announced.

Tennessee comes out first, hopping up and down on adrenaline, and then the Revolutions are announced. They come rushing out, led by Walker, Humphries, and their new quarterback, Declan Anderson.

The energy from the crowd is contagious, and the girls and I jump up and down and cheer with them while Jackson and Taylor play it cool. We win the coin toss and choose to defer to the second half, which means our defense is on the field and Walker will have a few minutes before going out.

He paces the sidelines, his concentration fixed on his team. When his players make good tackles, he lifts his hands and cheers. When they cause a fumble and we win possession, he jumps up in excitement and claps the defenders on the ass and helmet as they come off the field and he takes it.

I’m fixated on him. I don’t watch the center or the quarterback, unable to take my eyes off Walker. The first play is a pass, and he blocks the defense, protecting Anderson. The wide receiver drops the pass, and the next ball is overthrown.

There are negative chants coming from the stands behind us. We haven’t had a winning season in a few years with most of our players either new, recovering from injuries, or practically aging out.

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