Page 91 of Chasing the Rush
“How’d it feel to get taken down like a clown by your little brother? Pretty humbling I bet, huh?”
We all crack up. Roman didn’t get sacked like a clown by me. Not even close. But since we both know Chelsea knows the truth, it only makes her leaping at the chance to razz him even funnier.
“It didn’t feel great, Chelsea,” Roman replies dryly. “But if someone had to take me down like a clown, I’m sure glad it was Luca.”
Chelsea sighs happily. “He was a beast today, wasn’t he? A monster. He showed the whole world what he’s made of.”
“I just told him that myself.”
Chelsea looks at me adoringly, in a way that makes me pretty damned sure I’m getting fucked tonight, despite me falling short of her two-sack minimum for this particular game. But quickly, she returns to Roman. “Thank you so much for sending me that signed ball for Daisy for her birthday. She said it was the best present she’s ever received.”
“That was all Iris. She’s the one who got my attention in time to send it off.”
“When did all this happen?” I ask. I know Chelsea and Iris have been texting. After Roman’s party, Iris added her and Daisy into a group chat with Iris’s besties. But I had no idea the friendship had progressed to the point of Iris finagling a birthday football for Daisy.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” Roman says to me. “Chelsea and I are allowed to have a relationship that doesn’t involve you.”
Chelsea giggles. “Speaking of Iris, is she around here somewhere? I’d love to say hi.”
“Yeah, she’s with my parents. I’ll be saying a quick hello to all of them by the buses in a bit, if you want to come to our meeting spot.”
“Oh, for sure. Thank you.”
Holy shit.This is going better than my wildest dreams.
“If you want to see Iris,” I interject, feeling emboldened, “why don’t you come to dinner with my parents and Iris tonight? We’re going out to celebrate my first game as a Mastodon.”
Before Chelsea answers, none other than Jacob Moriarty walks up and bro-hugs Roman in greeting. It’s the code of superstars in this league. They pay their respects to each other on the field after every game, if only briefly.
Thankfully, Moriarty’s only saying hello to Roman in passing—as he heads for the tunnel and into the locker room. As he turns to leave, he murmurs to me, “Good game, Ninety-Five.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t get too comfortable, though.”
He pauses for a reaction, and when I don’t give him one—because these days, nothing’s going to bait me—he glares at Chelsea and shuffles off.
When Moriarty’s gone, Chelsea cackles with delight. “He hates me so much. It’s lovely.”
“Why?” I ask. “What happened?”
“I told him never to speak to me again unless first spoken to. And I haven’t said a word to him since.”
I high-five her and she laughs with glee.
“I have good news for you, Luca. The DC already told me he’s shuffling some guys around to make room for you next week, too. And probably permanently, if all goes well.”
Roman congratulates me and hugs me. But after a bit more conversation, he says he’d better get to the locker room so he doesn’t keep our parents and Iris waiting too long.
“It was great to see you again, Chelsea.”
“You, too, Roman. Great game today.” She winks. “You devil, you.”
Roman cackles. “Chelsea, you never disappoint. I love you, Lukie. Keep showing ’em, okay?”
“Will do.”
As Roman walks away, Chelsea turns to me. “So, about this dinner. Can I bring my parents? My mom’s in town for the game, and I promised to go to dinner with her and my father tonight.”
