Page 17 of More Than A Game

Murphy

When Brady and I were little kids throwing a football around in our backyards, we used to talk about our dream games. I can still picture the two of us thinking we were so cool because we played football. Brady could always throw better than me, and I could always tackle better than him. Back then, we had no idea the two of us would be playing together at the level we are now. Although, I’m pretty sure that our eight-year-old selves thought we’d both be playing for the Philadelphia Kings football team someday.

Being a freshman starting for the Kroydon Crusaders has been an adjustment.

As seniors at Kroydon Hills Prep last year, we were big fish in a small pond. You don’t realize that until reality smacks you in the face the first week of summer practice. College ball is different than even the very best high school ball. The speed of the game at this level is something you never imagined. Everyone on this team was the best player on their high school team or in their division.

We were all All-Stars.

Brady Ryan was in the top five nationally ranked quarterbacks our senior year, and I was in the top fifty nationally ranked linebackers. We were both recruited for this team, and now we’re freshman, happy to be starting.

As a linebacker, the stars rarely align to give me a chance for the game I had today. Today was the living, breathing embodiment of my dream game.

I had ten tackles and sacked the QB once.

I hit a running back so hard, he fumbled the ball, and my defensive tackle recovered it.

The cherry on top of this already wet-dream-worthy game was when I got an interception that I ran in for a fucking touchdown. A linebacker running for a TD is fucking rare. Today I made Ohio’s offense my bitch.

The chartered flight the team takes back from Ohio doesn’t take long and is spent with everyone mixing old war stories in with their embellished versions of the game we just played.

We’re all riding the high of having beaten one of our rivals.

It’s a fucking fantastic feeling.

Plans are being made for a party at the football house.

Days like today remind me that I love my life.

* * *

When Brady, Bash, and I walk into our house, I’m surprised by the sight that greets me. Natalie, Sabrina, and Chloe are laughing on the floor of the family room. There’s a half-empty bottle of Don Julio Tequila on the coffee table, along with three empty margarita glasses and three empty shot glasses. The smell of tequila and lime lingers in the air. The girls are so busy laughing, they don’t notice us until Brady clears his throat.

Nattie launches herself at him from the floor. Lucky for her, he’s got great reflexes. She squeals, wrapping her arms and legs around him. “Behold the conquering heroes!”

“Sweetheart, how much have you guys had to drink?” Brady asks lovingly as he holds her by her ass.

Nat laughs like that’s the funniest thing Brady ever said. “We got bored waiting for you to come home. That game was amazing. God, I love watching you dominate that field.” She whispers something else in his ear, and Brady starts walking away with Nat attached to him like a fucking koala bear.

When he gets to the bottom of the stairs, Brady looks back. “Don’t wait for us. We’ll meet you at the party later.” He takes the steps two at a time and disappears down the hall.

Chloe leans back against the couch and tilts her head back to me. “I don’t know that I’ll ever get totally used to seeing that and knowing what my brother and best friend are doing.” She closes her eyes. “Can you even imagine if Cooper were living here?”

“Nope. Coop would have lost his fucking shit by now.” Bash hefts his bag higher on his shoulder.

Sabrina gets up and crosses the room. She’s wearing a tight black Kroydon Crusaders t-shirt and even tighter blue jeans, hugging her curves. It would be a plain look on anyone else, but on Sabrina, it looks fucking fantastic.

She high fives Bash with a look of excitement on her face. “Great game.” When she turns to me, the look changes to something else. “Murphy, you were on fire. That sack you had in the second quarter was awesome. I didn’t think the quarterback was getting up.” A pretty flush tints her cheeks before she turns to start cleaning up.

“Thank you,” is barely a whisper on my lips as I watch her and Chloe cleaning up the mess in the family room. Something about having Sabrina sing my praises is making me a little self-conscious when I usually love it. I’m a ham, I eat this shit up. Bash calls me a peacock, happy to prance around, showing off. He said it all four years of high school.

What is it about Sabrina Cabot that throws me off my game?

Glancing back at her bent over the coffee table with her heart-shaped ass on full display in those jeans, I feel my cock jump.

Bash snaps his fingers in my face. “Earth to Murphy.”

I shove him away. “Shut up, man.”

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