Page 51 of Love Blitz

The first few minutes of the game weren’t riddled withrookiemistakes. My nerves didn’t get the best of me. In fact, it could have rivaled one of the best games of my career.

With a win, I stood on the sidelines with my chest puffed out. Mario approached, and with a pat to the back, he said, “Good game, stay well, and on your toes. I’m coming for my position.” Instead of a threatening face, he wore a grin. One that reminded me things could change in a blink.

A woman with dark-brown hair approached with a mic outstretched. “Angelo Isaac.” Her smile was wide and her eyes damn near glistening. “A few questions?”

With an easy nod, I agreed.

“How are you feeling about this swift change in your career? The unfortunate injury of Mario, and his following return, then you in the starting spot.” She smirked. “I’d hate to claimyou called it.” Her eyes narrowed. “But did you?”

I shook my head. “Any given Sunday things can change. I pray each time I take the field I am an asset to the team.”

“Okay.” Her lips downturned. Disappointed because I didn’t feed into her question. “And how do you feel about the season? Are you confident about future wins?”

I reiterated, “Any given Sunday.” With a wink, I asked, “Anything else?” I wasn’t about to jinx our season or piss off my team with a promise I couldn’t deliver. Of course, I hoped, prayed even, that our team would make it all the way. That we would deliver a trophy to the city in the end. But it was too early in the season to know if we were remotely close to making that a reality.

She repeated, “Any given Sunday. There you have it, folks.” Her attention turned to the camera, and mine to the sidelines.

I jogged off to find my mom and dad. “Dinner on me tonight,” I said when I saw them. “But for the two of you,” I warned. “I’m hitting the club with the team.”

Mama rocked a frown, but Dad had a proud grin on his face. Much like the one he wore on my high school signing day, or the day I got drafted into the league. It was the grin he reserved for the most important moments.

“Mama?” I asked when she eyed me.

“I know you deserve to celebrate. Was hoping we could do it all together,” she waved her hand, “first.”

I shook my head. “You two deserve a nice dinner—”

“Boy, go have fun. Let me wine and dine my woman tonight.” Dad winked at Mama then said, “You go have fun with your team. Build that camaraderie. Make sure y’all are good and tight so this season goes as desired.”

“I like that.” I pointed at him but scooped Mama in my arms. “I’ll see you in the morning.” After a kiss to her forehead, I told my dad, “I’ll send you the address of the restaurant. Before you get there they’ll have my card on file.”

My dad rubbed his hands together. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

I laughed before running off to join the team in the locker room. After the loss in Denver, we needed the win. And everyone in the locker room demonstrated how much a win improved their moods. Jacobi rapped with his shirt swirling in the air, and Forrest bounced beside him like he was his hype man.

“Where we headed?” I asked, looking at the two of them and a few others.

Jacobi shouted, “Vive la Vida.” I didn’t know if that was part of the song he was rapping or the name of the club. Not until everyone around him repeated it with a shout.

So, Vive la Vida it was. The club was dim, and the music loud. The crowd for a Sunday was decent. It didn’t matter much because they carted us straight into VIP. It was the exact scene I imagined when me, Jared, and Cam talked about professional sports. Celebrating wins in a club full of waiting women.

It would have been better if the two of them were there, but Forrest was a good stand-in. He was someone I would kick it with outside of the team. Outside of football.

His arm draped over my shoulder as he held a shot glass in front of him. Like he was about to say something sage, his eyes narrowed, and he scanned the crowd. “Now, you can call me ‘Tree.’” He looked over his shoulder.

Somehow I felt like Simba held up over the animal kingdom. It was a rite of passage I didn’t know I needed but appreciated more.

“Tree.” It rolled from my tongue. Probably because his tall, lanky ass towered over me.

He pointed to a crowd of women staring up at us. “Any one of them is ready and willing to meet us up here.”

Tree disappeared, somewhere behind me, and I stayed there. Staring at the crowd, looking over each of the women. Some tall, some short. A few with bodies that rivaled the baddest women on the internet. Others with a body that could stroll a runway. Still, none of them could compare to Gigi.

And their smiles, as wide as they were, didn’t do anything for me. Not like the way hers made me feel like a fire was lit on the inside. They stared because they knew who we were, she wasn’t even interested in the beginning.

The side of my face ticked up. Because although I knew she wasn’t with me for the game, it was the first thing I hurled at her. I turned and grabbed the white and blue bottle of Clasé Azul and poured a shot. The night was about winning—not the obvious L I took with Gigi.

Women filtered up the stairs and made their way around me. “Angelo.” One’s voice was low and sultry, despite the loud ass music in the background. Somehow I managed to make out her words. “Wanna dance?” Her hand wrapped around my forearm like she was placing her stake in the ground. She marked her territory, and the others fell back.

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