Page 66 of First Down Promise

I chuckle. “That’s purely a nickname from how I am on the field,” I say.

“It applies in both areas.”

“So, what were you going to do with that showerhead, and will you show me?”

Abby buries her face in my chest and laughs. “Someday,” she says. I smile and pull her a little tighter against me. Curled up together in her bed, it’s easy to let everything complicated about us fade away.

We really do suck at this.

And I’m having a hard time caring.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Abby

It’s hard to believe it’s been almost a month since Milwaukee. Sometimes, I still catch myself touching my lips, remembering the first time Josh kissed me.

A cabinet shuts behind me, pulling me back to the kitchen. My shoulders ache from practice earlier, and pizza sounds a hell of a lot better than whatever I should eat tonight.

“God, when was the last time we got junk food and just hung out?” I ask Pete.

“Too long, but I feel like I owed it to you,” Pete replies. He opens the large pizza box to reveal the sausage and mushroom pizza. A cheat night for Pete during the season wasn’t completely unheard of, but it wasn’t common either. Same for me, with the squad expecting us to maintain our weight. “Didn’t realize we ordered an XL. I should ask Josh if he’s free.”

My eyes widen. “No, it’s fine. Cold, leftover pizza is the best kind.”

Pete raises his eyebrows. “Okay, weirdo. You usually like seeing Josh.”

I put two plates on the counter next to the pizza box. “He’s okay, I guess.” Josh’s ears must be ringing from his house, less than a mile away. “But you always have the guys over. No bros tonight,” I add.

“That’s fair,” he says, placing two slices on a plate and handing it to me. “Just the Wilsons, then.”

“Just the Wilsons.” I run my finger along the ceramic edge of my plate. “You know, someday, I’ll be Mrs. Something Else.”

“Getting a little ahead of yourself, aren’t you?” he asks. I busy myself separating a string of cheese from the slices.

“Yeah, just pointing that out.”

“You’re just trying to distance yourself from our name, like Josh’s sisters did, huh?”

I frown. “That’s not it. I just—”

“I know,” he interrupts. “You’ve been fantasizing about getting married and doing the big wedding thing your whole life. I’ll never forget how you would do pretend weddings when you were five.” I nearly choke on my bite.

“Never repeat that in front of the guys!” I squeal.

“Why? It’s pretty funny, Ab.” He waves toward the living room. “C’mon, let’s eat.”

With our plates in hand, we plop down on the couch, and Pete puts on a new comedy movie, despite a football game playing on the West Coast. Maybe we’ve reached that point in the season when he’s tired of football—or too stressed about it. But that didn’t stop him from putting on Dad’s vintage green Wisconsin football tee. The edges are frayed, and the green has faded from years of wear. I remember Dad wearing it, and on Pete, the resemblance between them is even harder to ignore. I wonder if Pete felt the same way when I showed him pictures from Josh’s party with me in Mom’s old black dress.

“I bet the guys are watching that California game. I can’t stomach it, though,” Pete complains, tossing the TV remote onto the cushion between us.

“Why do you only hang out with Josh, Coop, and Dane? There’s like fifty guys on the team.”

“I like everyone on the team, but those are my guys. You don’t hang out with the whole squad,” he replies.

“They’re your guys, yet I feel like you’ve judged them so much, especially Josh. For his lifestyle choices. What do you really think about him?” I ask and pick at a piece of baked cheese on my crust. “Just curious what you think.”

Pete swallows and clears his throat. “He’s my best friend, and I’ve changed my ways, but he hasn’t. This is so fucking awkward. Before you moved in, I was kind of a player, too,” Pete says. My crust slips out of my fingers and clatters onto my plate.