“Yup.” Levi claps his palms together and addresses the group. “Like Roman said, only women can be quarterback. Also, all past or present players, whether pro or college, have to play with their dominant hand behind their back onoffense.” He glares at Cameron, the Maguire brothers’ agent. “No exceptions.”
Cameron scoffs. “I didn’t break that rule last time. I was unjustly accused.”
“Like hell you didn’t,” Levi says.
“I had to brush some hair out of my eyes.”
“A likely story,” Marco teases.
Cameron’s never played football professionally, but he played in college with Roman before an injury sidelined him for good after only one year, so I bet he’s still got some good moves in his repertoire—at least, in the context of a friendly game of tag football.
As half the beach relitigates their old beef with Cameron, I share an amused look with pregnant Iris nearby in her beach chair. This whole family is insanely competitive—every bit as competitive as my own, which is saying a lot. It’s why I love them so much, and also why Iris finds them slightly terrifying.
“Moving on,” Levi says. “Maverick doesn’t need to be drafted. He’s a rover who can play with whichever team he wants, whenever he wants. He can even switch teams, mid-game, as long as he lets everyone know.”
Maverick snakes his tiny arm around his father’s powerful thigh and presses his cheek against it. “I only want to play with my daddy.”
“That’s my boy,” Roman says. “Thanks, buddy.”
As everyone swoons over Maverick’s devotion to his beloved daddy, Levi says, “I think that’s everything, other than that Marco and Roman aren’t allowed to play on the same team, so they’re both team captains again.”
Everyone agrees the rules are acceptable, and the draft commences. A coconut is flipped to determine which team captain will pick first, playground-style, Roman or Marco, and when the latter man wins, he predictably selects his wife first.
“Nicola the Nuke!” Marco says, and his wife makes her way across the sand toward him with a flex of her bicep.
“Well, damn, the pressure’s on now,” Roman mutters. Rubbing his palms together, he surveys his options on the beach, and to my horror, his gaze soon lands and then lingers on me. “What do you say, Chelsea the Cannon? If I picked you, would you try to sabotage me from within?”
“It’s a fair question. And I truly wish I could pull that off. But unfortunately, I’m too competitive to throw a game under any circumstances, even to thwart the Prince of Darkness from winning yet another football game.” My statement isn’t entirely true, as of a few hours ago, anyway. This morning, for the first time ever, I threw a game of UNO with Maverick. I didn’t know I had it in me, honestly. But once I saw Maverick’s extreme glee when I genuinely forgot to yell “Uno!” with one card left in my hand, I realized I cared more about Maverick having fun than anything else. So, after that, I conveniently forgot to yell “Uno!" again and again, until Maverick inevitably walked away with the win.
“I’m not sure if I believe you,” Roman says, rubbing his chin. “But then again, I’ve always loved living dangerously. Come on over, Chelsea the Cannon. Roman’s Wreckers officially pick you as our next selection.”
“Aw, crap.” I start dragging myself toward Roman, but Luca tells me to stop. “Come on, Roman. Don’t torture her. You know she’d rather die than help you win at anything.”
“It’ll be good for her. A chance to grow and mature and hopefully leave the toxicity of her silly grudge behind.”
My mouth hangs open. I know he’s baiting me. Hoping to get a rise out of me. But even so, I can’t help myself.
“Okay, first of all, it’s not silly and it’s not a simplegrudge.”
Roman looks deeply amused. “Rivalry. So sorry, little Buckeye.”
“No, it’s not even that.”
“Uh-oh, Roman,” Ava says. “Looks like you just pulled the pin out of Chelsea’s grenade.” To me, she says, “Tell him, honey. What is it?”
“It’s a religion. A moral code.A way of life.”
“That’s right!” Ava shouts, raising her glass. “Even if the Buckeyes are inferior in every conceivable way, I fully respect your unwavering loyalty to them!”
Everyone laughs at that, even me.
“Thank you, Ava. I think.”
“Man, you’re fun to tease, Chelsea Parker,” Roman says. “Now that you’ve got that out of your system, get over here. With Iris out and Nicola taken, I need you.”
“Roman, come on,” Luca says. “Don’t do this to her.”
“It’s fine,” I say. “I’ll survive.”
