Page 21 of Merry Mischief List

“Wow.” I give his arm a brief squeeze. “The ogre does have layers.”

“Just like an onion.” Porter winks as we stop at a stand manned by a guy with his broad-shouldered back to us. He turns around, and I recognize him immediately.

Kensington Knox, #52, defensive cornerback for the Tampa Barracudas.

I may be a cheerleader, but I grew up in a football household. Dad’s been a diehard Barracudas fan for as long as I can remember. We even had season tickets growing up and went to every game. Probably why it’s not a shock I became a cheerleader and major in sports medicine.

“Finally!” Kensington says, grabbing Porter’s shoulder and pulling him in for a hug like they’re old friends. Then again, Porter did play for Tampa once upon a time, so it wouldn’t be a stretch.

“I told you I’d be here,” Porter replies with an eye roll.

“Well, I’m glad you could make it with your…” Kensington gives me a brief once-over. “Busy schedule.”

My eyes bounce between them, sensing there’s more at play than just football.

Kensington extends his hand towards me. “You must be Pop Tart?”

I glare at Porter before returning my attention to Kensington and sliding my hand in his. “Cupcake, actually. But my friends call me Andi.”

“Well, nice to meet you, Andi.” He grins, giving my hand a soft squeeze before pulling back. “Mine call me Knox.”

“You told him about me?” I ask Porter, trying to hide the surprise in my tone.

Knox replies for him, “You’ll learn quick enough, he tells me everything.”

“Good to know,” I mumble.

“Alright, well, I gotta make the rounds,” Knox says. “Have fun. We’ll catch up later, yeah?”

“Yeah, see you,” Porter says, and Knox whispers something in his ear, laughing before waving at me and walking off.

“Sothat’show you ended up volunteering here, huh? Yourbestie,Kensington Knox?”

Porter grins at me with narrowed eyes. “I figured you knew who he was.”

“Of course I do,” I scoff. “I grew up in a Florida football household. You really think I wouldn’t know who the Tampa first line is?”

“You’ve got some heart eyes,” Porter teases.

“Maybe I should ask him to sign my tits.” I puff out my chest, and Porter releases a warm laugh.

“I’m sure he’d happily oblige,” he says as we walk past the decorated booths. He pauses at a drink stand and buys us each a cup of something.

“Yum,” I hum, taking the warm drink. “Hot chocolate?” He guides us away, behind an inflatable Santa, and pulls something out of his pocket. A laugh rips out of me as I stare down at two mini Baileys bottles being held in his large hand.

“Spikedhot chocolate,” he says with a grin.

“You smuggled booze for your slutty elf into achurch?”

“Even Jesus drank wine,” he says, twisting off the tops and spiking each of our drinks.

“You really aren’t what I expected.”

He tips the cocoa towards me, paired with a mischievous grin. “To unwrapping new surprises.”

“To unwrapping new surprises.”

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