Page 42 of The Friend Zone
Dana affected a British accent. “That’s what I want you to think, but once I’ve sucked you in with my humble choices, I’ll use my feminine wiles to get private-jet rides to Paris for dinner where we’ll dine on foie gras, filet mignon, and only the best caviar, dah-ling.”
“I knew it!”
Laughing, Dana threw her head back and Omar gazed at her as if she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. His features softened, and then he planted a hard, wet kiss on her lips, as if he couldn’t help himself.
The shuttle took them back to the main building, and while Omar lifted Prince from the vehicle, a teenager nearby did a double take at Omar. They retrieved their belongings from the lockers and were on their way to the parking lot when the boy approached.
“Excuse me, are you Omar Bradford, who used to play for the Falcons?”
“I am.”
“It’s him!” he said to his friends. “Do you mind if we take a selfie with you?”
“Nah, I don’t mind.”
The boy waved his friends over, and Omar handed Dana the tote bag with their belongings. Omar took the selfie with the teens, but their posing brought attention to him and kicked off fifteen minutes of having to sign autographs and take more pictures with other fans. A couple of the women became a little grabby and flirty, but Omar laughed good-naturedly and dutifully took photos with them as well.
This wasn’t the first time Dana was with him when adoring fans swarmed, but this was the first time she’d done so after sleeping with him. Jealousy reared its hideous green head with a vengeance. She wanted to slap their hands from his biceps and tell them to shut the hell up when they made remarks likeI would love for you to tackle me.
Instead, she gritted her teeth and patiently waited nearby with Prince until the last person received their autograph.
“Sorry about that,” Omar said as they walked back to the car.
Prince walked between them, each of his hands holding on to one of theirs.
“No big deal. It’s not as bad as it used to be.”
“True.”
Before he retired, he could easily get cornered for an hour or longer, but nowadays the fandom remained at a manageable level.
They climbed into the car, and Dana snapped on her seatbelt. “I can now check tubing off my list of accomplishments. I’m glad we came. It was very relaxing.” Once again, Omar had expanded her horizons.
“Except for the part where a damn duck almost decapitated us,” Omar said, talking low so his son couldn’t hear him curse.
“Damn duck!” Prince shouted.
“Hey, boy, watch your mouth.”
Dana giggled at them, stuffing down her jealous anger from earlier. “The duck did try to kill us, but that part was fun too.” She placed a hand on Omar’s thigh, and he lifted her fingers to his lips before starting the car.
They stopped at a diner for lunch and then spent the afternoon at Piedmont Park where they spread a blanket on the grass and Omar and Prince ran and jumped and tossed around a Nerf football.
After a while, Omar called out to Dana. “Come join us,” he said.
“Yes, join us,” Prince said.
“No way. I don’t know the first thing about playing football,” Dana said, shaking her head.
Prince ran over and took her hand. “Come play with us,” he said, pulling on her.
With such an invitation, how could she refuse? She stood up and followed behind him. They split up into two teams, with her and Prince on one team against Omar.
Prince scored the most points simply because they let him. Imitating his father’s cocky attitude every time he scored a touchdown, he spiked the ball and did his own version of the Falcons’ Dirty Bird dance by flapping his arms like wings.
On the last play of the day, Omar flew into the end zone, and when Prince caught up, he tackled his legs. Omar tossed himself to the ground and Prince and Dana piled on top of him with a series of giggles, wrestling and punching until he handed over the ball in defeat.
Later, dinner was at a favorite barbecue spot before Omar took Dana home.
