Page 127 of Zone
I bounce Cricket on my lap, and she hums as she chews on a black toy football with gold lettering.
“Most of you remember, the last time we won the Super Bowl was against the Colts in Miami. It’s been a long road,but with an explosive offensive line and a driving defense, we’ve got what it takes to go all the way this year.”
Lindsey controls the show from our place on St. Charles, and Stan the Manny hangs nearby ready to take Cricket from me if she gets fussy or needs a bottle or a change.
We switch off the camera, as I’m on my feet most of the time, watching the game on Knox’s massive flatscreen television in the living room and commenting on the plays as they happen.
My audio is broadcast on a streaming service, so I’m able to see audience reactions as I speak, and so far, we seem to have made it through the “rebrand” without losing our subscribers.
“K-Brad is working well under pressure tonight,” I say, watching as Knox takes the checkdown, tossing the ball to Fonz, who makes the easy five-yard gain. “I’m glad to see he’s listening to us instead of choosing violence.”
Laughing face emojis overflow along with thumbs-ups and peace signs, and my chest lightens. It’s possible this might actually work. Perhaps the shock of our relationship was overridden by the dirty deeds of Chet and Susan.
Of course, there are a few trolls like @FireEverybody commenting,Sounds like QP is choosing ass-licking over objectivity, but considering the social media handle, I choose to let it go.
This week’s game is less of a nail-biter, thanks to the Colts being in a rebuilding phase, and the Saints pull out an easy win.
“Looks like my rebrand will go a little something like this: That was a damn good play by our very own K-Brad. We’re watching a new Bradford legacy being built.”
Cricket is asleep on my shoulder as the black and gold confetti falls in the Dome and the fans flood onto the field. I see the sideline reporters run up to my man, and he’s allsweaty and happy and gorgeous-looking with another win under his belt.
My stomach squeezes at the sight of him, chased quickly by a hit of self-consciousness. It’s still pretty new to think of him that way.
Stan steps into the room, speaking quietly. “If you’re no longer needing me, I’ll head home for the night.”
I turn carefully so as not to wake the baby. “All good—thank you, Stanley.”
“Are you feeling well, Miss Dunne?” His brow furrows, and he takes a step closer. “Your face is flushed.”
Of course that makes me blush harder. “I’m good! Just… happy.”
His brow relaxes, and he nods, smiling. “It was a good game. Who dat?”
The easy way he says it makes me huff a little laugh. “Right.”
Confetti is still pouring onto the field, and the cameras pan over the crowd, lingering on the Cheer Krewe, and I quickly add a post script.
“I’d like to add another big thank-you to Stacia Smith, member of the Cheer Krewe, who played a big role in helping reunite the family. Big salute to you, Stacia! And from right here in the heart of the Crescent City, QP is signing off. Who dat!”
I lean back in my seat, rocking Cricket as I watch Knox nod and answer the sideline reporter’s questions. The television is on mute, and I think about how much I’d like to be there with him, hugged against his side, celebrating another win, another step closer to the Big Game.
He mentioned in passing he wished we were in the box cheering for him during home games. I think about the rebrand, and it gives me a better idea.
CHAPTER 29
Knox
“Ican’t stop looking at him.” Maverick’s voice is dreamy in a way I’ve never heard it—not even when we were growing up and he was mooning over Dove all the time and driving me crazy. “He’s so tiny, yet he’s utterly perfect.”
“Is he going to play hockey, football, or golf?” I throw in that last option for fun.
Aunt Dylan tried so hard to get Mav to play the “safe game” of golf. Instead he went with hockey.
“He can play whatever the hell he wants.” Mav laughs with me. “Or not at all. He can be like Sage and ride horses all the time.”
“I wonder if Uncle Zane would’ve still played football if things had been different.” After my grandparents died, all the boys went into pro sports.
As the sons of football legend Art Bradford, it was their ticket to college and the best path to lucrative careers. Still,Uncle Zane was more interested in books and horses growing up.
