Page 36 of The Way We Win

It’s going to be a long day.

Logan’s whistle blasts,and the offense lines up. Austin is in the quarterback position, and Levi is in the backfield across from Noah in a basic split-back formation.

It actually hasn’t been as shitty of a day as I was bracing for it to be. George isn’t in the stands, and the sky is overcast, bringing down the heat.

“Austin’s playing better today than he has all camp.” Logan stands beside me, watching him fake a pass, then charge up the center, cutting through the line and getting the first down.

“Where you at, Defense?” Buddy yells from the sidelines. “I could’ve driven a truck through that hole. You need to run more laps?”

Garrett’s not here today, but he’ll be back tomorrow and Friday afternoon. The short time he’s been able to help has brought my starting lineup together, and once we get to playing, they’ll really gel.

Logan tweets his whistle, and the boys huddle. I see Austin standing tall, nodding at his fellow teammates and telling themAce. I’ll have to tell him to use hand signals, because all eyes will be on him, reading his lips.

They go down for the snap, and my shoulders tense when I hear the sound of girls jogging out to join us on the sidelines.

I keep my eyes on the team.

Rich breaks off from the line, going downfield, and Levi finds another hole in the center. Austin quickly scans both boys, makes a decision, and fires a pass to our newest player.

This time Levi catches it easily, strong-arms a lineman and runs it twenty yards to first and goal. Offense breaks into celebration, surrounding Levi and slapping his back, lifting him off his feet.

My chest warms, and I’m gratified to see the smile on Levi’s face.

Parents clap and cheer from the bleachers, and the new drill team now present on the sidelines jumps up and down, cheering for the boys.

For the first time in almost twenty-four hours, the tension in my chest breaks. They look like a team, and those rumblings of taking state are starting to feel real.

Then I see Allie.

As if drawn by an invisible force, my eyes go directly to hers. She’s standing on the other side of the crowd of girls, almost like she’s hiding behind Liv, but I find her.

Our eyes clash, and energy pops in my chest. My throat constricts, and I can’t look away. I want to drink in the sight of her. I want to fantasize about all the things I could do to her.

Today, she’s wearing a white skirt and a red tank top to match the colors of the team, red and white. The top is tight, clinging to her curves, her full breasts and narrow waist, and the skirt is short, showing off her cute ass and tanned legs.

Her short hair bounces around her shoulders, and her lips are also red. She’s wearing white socks and chunky tennis shoes, and she looks better than any cheerleader. She’s a fucking fantasy.

“Daddy!” My daughter runs up and grabs me around the legs, breaking my lusty thoughts. “Miss Allie is helping AuntDeedee and Auntie Liv coach the drill team! I think I could be on the drill team. I’m good at kicking!”

Kimmie bounces beside me, kicking her leg straight out, and I have to step back fast so she doesn’t rack me in the nuts.

“Watch where you’re kicking, Peanut!” Zane covers his mouth with his hand, snorting a laugh. “You almost made your dad a soprano.”

Kimmie squints one eye, looking up at him. “What’s that?”

He’s still laughing. “It’s a person with a very high voice.”

I put my hand on my little girl’s shoulder. “Let Aunt Liv do her job. Don’t interrupt her, and stay out of the way.”

Kimmie nods, watching the girls lining up in formation on the sidelines. Liv walks down, moving people around based on what appears to be height.

They’re in two lines, staggered so each girl is visible from the field, and Dylan leans into Allie’s ear to say something. My sister is also wearing a white skirt and red tank, and I realize all the girls are in either white shorts or tennis skirts and red tank tops.

I’ve only been looking at one person.

“This will be your spot for the year.” I’m close enough to hear Liv’s instructions. “Be spatially aware of each other.”

Logan’s whistle draws me back, and I remember I’m supposed to be watching the field, not Allie Sinclair.

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