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“Does this mean you’re going to take it easy on me at practice next week?” Thomas asks.
“Nope.” Chance chuckles. “Really though, I know we have a game tomorrow and I’m sure this is the last place you want to be today, but we really appreciate you being here. Aubrey and Emma bust their asses for this place. It’s nice to see they’re getting the word out.”
“Like your status didn’t bring any of these people in,” Jack tells him.
“Maybe, but it’s not my name on the backs of all these jerseys.” He nods toward the crowd. “I’m new to the team, and I haven’t played in a long time. Unless they’re a collector of my ass trinkets, it’s all you.”
“W-What?” Case sputters with laughter.
“Oh, let me tell you about the ass trinkets,” Aubrey says, stepping up behind her husband. He wraps her in his arms as she tells us all about it. She has us all rolling with laughter by the time she’s finished. “Anyway.” She grins, clearly proud of herself. “Things are winding down. You guys can head out. Thank you for being here.”
“Wanna grab a beer at Harvey’s?” Case asks our group. Thomas, Kaden, and Jack immediately agree. “Landon?”
“We might catch up with you. I’m going to stick around and see if Emma needs anything.”
Thomas begins to sing “Another One Bites the Dust,” making everyone laugh. “Next thing you know he’s going to be walking down the aisle and having babies like Trent.”
He’s joking, but what he doesn’t realize is the thought of that… it’s not scary. Not even in the slightest. That’s… unexpected, but then again, everything with Emma is new and unexpected. I’m a greedy bastard because I want more of it.
More of her.
Any way I can have her. If that means with a ring on her finger and growing round with my child, I’ll take it. In fact, now the thought is in my head, I can see it clearly. Our future flashes before my eyes. If it plays out anything like my mind has created, I am indeed one lucky bastard.
Chapter 19
Emma
The crowd is electric as we walk into the Trojans stadium. It’s as if the entire building is lit up with the excitement of the fans.
“Damn, I’m glad I left CJ with his aunt Adele. This place is crazy.” Aubrey links her arms through mine as we filter our way through the crowd. “Maybe we should start taking them up on sitting in the box,” she says once we find our seats.
“What? And miss all the action. Pfft.” I wave her off. “This is where it lives.” I give her a cheesy grin.
“Yeah, it meaning the madness.”
“Exactly. It’s exciting and electric. Besides, I like to cheer and scream and I don’t think that would be allowed in the box. Then again, I wouldn’t really know as I’ve never been in there.”
“We should try it at least once,” she counters.
“Fine, we can try it once.” I hold up my index finger for emphasis, making her laugh.
“Excuse me, are you Emma Deaton?” a woman asks from next to me.
“Uh.” I look over my shoulder at Aubrey, then turn back to the woman. “Yes, do I know you?”
“No, but I’m a huge fan of Landon Barker. You’re his girlfriend, right?”
I nod. I didn’t expect this. “That’s what I thought. He can do so much better than you,” she sasses, then turns and marches up the steps. Turning to face forward, I try to wrap my head around what just happened.
“Did she say what I think she said?” Aubrey asks.
“She did. Those box seats are looking better and better,” I admit.
“Oh, hell no.” Aubrey stands, but my hand on her arm stops her.
“Don’t. She’s entitled to her opinion. I’m different from any woman in his past.”
“Yeah, since you have a title that none of the others had.”
“That too. Let’s just watch the game.” Luckily, kickoff is a few minutes later and I’m able to push the woman to the back of my mind. Mostly. I mean, who isn’t going to be affected by a comment like that? The first half of the game flies by, and before I know it, it’s half-time.
“You want anything?” Aubrey asks.
“No thanks.”
“You want to come with?”
I could use the restroom, but I don’t want to run into any other disgruntled so-called fans, so I opt to stay here. “I’m good. Thank you.”
She leaves and I pull my phone out of my pocket to not seem like the loner girl sitting alone. I’m scrolling through my social media when I feel a tap on my shoulder. Turning, I see a guy who’s about my age, mid-to-late twenties. He has a scruffy beard, mustard on his shirt from I’m assuming the half-eaten hot dog in his hand, and he has a beer in the other. His eyes are glassy and it’s obvious that he’s beyond wasted.
