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“That was a great play,” he calls loudly. “Too bad K-Brad wasn’t in on it.”
“We’ll take whatever great plays we get,” I smile, feeling a million times better after coming here. “The Vikings are a great team, a historic franchise, but we all know the old saying, ‘Offense scores points, but Defense wins games.’”
They line up for another try, and Armstrong powers through the line, going straight at Justice, putting thepressure on hard. The Vikings’ quarterback clearly panics, attempting a toss before our lineman nails him.
By some divine stroke of luck, the ball lands directly in the hands of a Saints inside linebacker, who turns and takes off flying down the field. We’re all on our feet screaming him on, and he takes the ball all the way to the fifteen-yard line before being stopped.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” I reach out and grab Chet’s arm, shaking it as we return to our chairs. So much for professional composure.
“That was some kind of turnaround,” Chet laughs, clearly caught up in the excitement in spite of himself. “Let’s see if K-Brad will take the opportunity he’s been given.”
I don’t comment. My throat is tight. Every muscle in my body is tensed as the Saints offense takes the field. The air is buzzing, and we’ve got ten seconds left to make the score. It’s enough time for one stellar play, and the pressure is so intense, my head hurts.
The guys line up, and Etienne makes the snap. The ball is in Knox’s hands, and I can’t breathe. I see him looking down the field for anyone, but Baker and Kyler are both covered. He’s under pressure, the clock is running out, and all at once, a hole opens in the defensive line. Knox digs in and runs straight through it fast as a rabbit, making the touchdown and winning the game.
We’re on our feet again, screaming. I’m laughing, holding Chet’s arm and giving him a hug. His eyes narrow at me as he smiles back, but I don’t pay any attention. It was a gorgeous play, and I wish I could be down there, going onto the field to celebrate with him.
As the kicker scores the extra point, we regain our composure, taking our seats to prepare for the post-game show. I’m still smiling, watching Knox high fiving and celebrating with his friends.
“That’s not hero ball, Chet, that’s simply a hero handling the ball.”
“It’s interesting to see you evolve around K-Brad,” Chet is still grinning in that suspicious way. “We’ll toss it to our guy on the field, but be sure and stick around for the post-game, folks, we’ve got something you donotwant to miss.”
The cameras flicker off, and I stand, removing my headset. “I’ll just hit the ladies’ before we come back.”
“Five minutes,” Chet warns, and I give him a quick thumbs-up before stepping into the wings.
I slide my phone from my pocket, and as expected, my screen is full of texts from Lindsey going from scolding me for being too soft on Knox to congratulating me for roasting the Vikings and the defensive line.
I shake my head, quickly dismissing them as I shoot a text to Knox.
Melody
That final play was Gridiron Gold. Wish I could’ve been on the field to celebrate with you.
He won’t see it for a while, but I want him to know how I really feel. I couldn’t resist using his silly catchphrase, and my chest is warm and zippy as I return to the dais for our post-show chat.
The makeup artist powders our noses then steps to the side as the lights come up and we’re live on YouTube. I’ve come a long way from not wanting to have my face out there. Now I’m everywhere.
“And we’re back to talk about the New Orleans Saints’ stunning victory over the Minnesota Vikings. It’s been a series of early-season nail-biters, and that was some serious last-minute heroics, QP.”
“It’s true. K-Brad has been a little distracted this season,but he still pulled out a win every time. That’s what matters.” It’s a protective comment that flows effortlessly from my lips.
Lindsey will hate it. I expect even Knox will say he prefers constructive criticism, but I tell myself it’s what the fans are thinking, which is also part of my brand.
The only problem is all my warm feelings blind me to thegotchabullet Chet’s loading into the barrel of his shotgun.
“I’m sure the fans agree.” His brow arches, and he tilts his head like we’re sharing a secret. “However, I’ve heard the reason K-Brad might be distracted is because he has a new woman in his life. Care to comment?”
The smile freezes on my cheeks, and I fight to keep my expression neutral. “I’m sorry?” My voice is barely controlled. “I don’t understand. Comment on what?”
“We received a DM from one of our longtime listeners…” He shifts in his chair, lifting his hand to the big screen. “Our very own @Brees4Evah said she found this image saved to the hard drive of a photo printer at her local Walgreens in New Orleans.”
The screen blinks and then lights up with the 40-foot image of Knox, Cricket, and me in his bed that first night when he asked me to stay. The same one I had printed at the drugstore, that he has in hisfamilypicture frame.
“Got anything to say as this goes viral?”
A boulder is in my neck, and it’s blocking my ability to breathe. It’s preventing my ability to swallow. I can’t move. My head lightens, and it’s possible I might pass out right here on this very stage.
