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“Aw, Asher, you back at that again?” My immediate heavy exhale is the cause of my best friend, Oakley, who is fully aware of my intentions with the girl who’s now sandwiched between us. “She knows that she could do better than you.”
“Annie Oakley,” Magnolia chides, pivoting around to face him with a scowl. “I know your mama taught you and your brothers to hold doors open for ladies and to act right, so why are you gonna call your friend out like that?”
Oakley returns her scowl with a look of pure exasperation at his nickname that we gathered who he was named after thanks to his mom. “Magnolia, why you gotta call me by that name? I know your daddy taught you to respect your elders.”
She crosses her arms along his chest. “You’re not that much older than me. And you know damn well I don’t like bullying.”
Oakley’s brow uplifts. “Did you say damn?” He slides his dark browns to me. “Your woman swears, Ash. You sure you wanna deal with that mouth when she’s mad at you for—” She smacks his chest, and I can’t help the surge of possessiveness that courses through me when she’s standing that close to him.
“You already know the answer to that, Annie.” I hit him with a scowl, and he matches it.
“Oakley,” he repeats. “That’s my given name. And we’re playing a round of football, Ash, you in?”
“Only if Magnolia wants to play.”
Oakley tosses her the pigskin in his hand, and she promptly catches it. “You in, Mags?”
“I’ll play.”
My best friend jerks his thumb behind him to the patch of grass along the side of the house. “We’re teamin’ up over there.”
“Let’s do it.” She strides in that direction, and Oakley watches her go while I step up to his side.
“Pass the word around that if anyone touches her, I’ll be punching them in the fucking face by the end of the night.”
Oakley only gives me an exasperated look at my Looney Tunes demeanor that always seems to show up. “It’s touch-football, dumbass. And I’m not doing that. You need to take it down a notch. She’s not gonna want to be controlled.”
“I’m not controlling her, I’m sending a message and controlling everyone else’s actions.”
“No one is gonna grab her ass,” he sighs. “Geezus Christ.”
I shoulder bump him and find Magnolia a few seconds later with all our teammates, talking amongst them, when Tony, our tight end on our football team, stands at the head of everyone wanting to play.
He explains the rules—no tackling, no hitting, no unnecessary roughness, you’re touched with two hands you’re out, and there are cones at the end of each side of the yard which serve as the end zone to make a touchdown.
Then he and Oakley begin picking people on their teams. There are about twenty of us to keep the teams even, and I’m Oakley’s first pick while Magnolia is Tony’s.
I know…I know he can feel my glare and Oakley thinks it’s absolutely hilarious.
“He already knows your weakness.” He chuckles at my side, and it’s not until I get to stand in front of the whole crowd that I see Harrison.
“What the fuck is he doing here?”
"Who?”
“Harrison.”
Oakley follows the trail my eyes are currently on. “I didn’t invite him to play.”
“Don’t pick him.” I shake my head. “Shit, pick him.”
“What? Why?”
“I don’t want him near Magnolia.”
“Then you’re putting her at risk of being touched,” my best friend retorts.
“Not if I’m blocking her, he won’t be. I got this, just do it.”
