Page 153 of Off Camera
“At the end of the day, I still have you. That’s not losing.”
“Cheese award,” she says, and I flip her off. “Did your sales manager send you the three-month report of ticket sales with all the numbers?”
“Yup. I haven’t looked at it. Figured we could get Emmy to do the honors after the game. She doesn’t have any stake in this feud of ours. What about the Social Media Account of the Year?”
“They’re supposed to announce it tonight after the game ends. Do they usually call you beforehand?”
“It’s cute you think this is a formal thing,” I say. “They share the winner in a post on Instagram and that’s that. I do know both of us are finalists, along with the Penguins out in Phoenix. But between you and me, they don’t stand a chance.”
“Right.” Avery nods. “Got it.”
I reach up and softly grip her chin, tilting her face to meet mine. “You know I don’t care about any of this, right? I don’t give a shit if I win or lose a stupid bet we made in the heat of the moment, Ave. I did in the beginning, but not anymore. It doesn’t have any merit to how well we do our jobs, because I know for a fact you’re a fucking superstar in your role.”
“The flattery sure is nice this morning.” She laughs and stands, the hem of her shirt riding up the backs of her thighs when she leans over to fix her socks. “I know it’s not a big deal, and I really don’t care which of us wins, but I’d love to prove that asshole Andrew wrong. My stats speak for themselves, but the accolade would be the icing on the cake. I love pissing men off.”
“Thatta girl,” I say, and she grins. “Can’t wait to watch you in action today, Sinclair. You on the sidelines in those leggings of yours is my favorite sight. I can’t even watch the game.”
“Sorry to disappoint, but I think I’m going to be in jeans today. It’s fucking freezing outside, and I hate being cold.”
“Want to meet in my office at halftime? I could warm you up.”
“Feeling nostalgic, Duncan?” is tossed over her shoulder as she saunters to the bathroom with a swish of her hips. “I can find some cellophane, if you want.”
“Please, god, no. It took me three days to unravel the mess you made.”
“Was it worth it?” Avery asks, leaning against the door.
I grin, never more sure of anything in my life. “Worth every fucking second.”
The game is a blowout, and I feel bad for Avery.
When the final whistle sounds and the Titans fans cheer, I look for her in the crowd, hoping she’s doing okay.
I know she said it’s not a big deal, but she pours her heart into everything she does. The season ending with an annihilation has to sting.
I congratulate the Titans players, clasping their shoulders and laughing when the Gatorade cooler gets dumped on Shawn.We’re one win away from heading to the Super Bowl, and with how the boys are playing lately, another ring seems inevitable.
“Nice job, man,” I yell at Dallas. “Proud of you.”
“You’re coming out with us to celebrate tonight, right?” he yells back before messing up my hair. “Bring Avery.”
“Not sure she’s going to want to hang out with the guys who beat her team.” I crane my neck, spotting her across the field. She’s deep in conversation with one of the Thunderhawks players, and an idea comes to mind. “Text me the details. I’ll see if she’s down.”
I move out of the way of the celebrations and kick off the confetti stuck to my shoe. I open Instagram and type out a post, adding an image of the team with their arms raised and jumping in the air. I hesitate for half a second then include a song on the post, uploading it before I can think twice.
I jog to the Thunderhawks’ sideline and watch Avery pull out her phone. Her eyebrows wrinkle and her mouth pops open, her head on a swivel as she looks around. When she spots me, she storms my way, and I bite back a grin.
“What the hell is this?” She holds up her phone, turning the volume up so I can hear the Thunderhawks song blaring from the post I shared. “‘Hell of a run, Thunderhawks. Looking forward to continuing the rivalry next year’?” She gapes at me. “You all destroyed us. Blew us out of the water. We’re going to be a mockery on every sports show tomorrow morning.”
“We did and you might be. But that’s the thing about love, isn’t it? You don’t give up when the going gets tough.”
“What does that mean?” Avery asks. “You’re talking about football, right?”
“Maybe.” I reach for her, and she takes my hand. “I might be talking about you too.”
She blinks and steps closer to me. “I’m going to need some clarification,” she whispers. “Because I don’t like to be confused.”
“I spent three years talking to someone I pretended not to give a damn about, but the thing is, I love you,” I say. “I love you a whole fucking lot, Avery, and it’s the one part of our bet I didn’t see coming. I planned for everything else except falling head over heels for you. And I still fell. Hard. I fucking smashed into the ground.”
