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Which I do, so it’s an accurate description. Ha.
We drive over to the stadium, Blair tagging along with us.
“Why aren’t you going with your parents?” I ask her. I thought she wanted to hang out with them. She was excited about their arrival and talked about it with us almost nonstop.
A sigh leaves her and she stares out the car window. “I’m kind of mad at them for selling our family house.”
Oh, that’s right. Knox mentioned that to me last night after dinner, when I went to his place after we dropped his parents off at the hotel. We stayed up for a little while cuddling together in bed, talking. He told me how his parents are moving to California, and while he’s sad they’re selling the house, he’s happy for his parents and that they’re doing something for themselves.
“What do you mean?” Natalie asks.
Blair fills her in on what’s going on while I remain quiet.
“I totally get where you’re coming from,” I tell Blair. “But I also can see why they want to move closer to your aunt and uncle.”
“Knox told me I’m being a spoiled brat, but I can’t help it. It makes me emotional, knowing that we won’t be able to go home anymore. We’ll have to visit our parents all the way in California, and that’s not home to me.” Blair exhales loudly. “I have fond memories of spending time with them there during the summer. Over the holidays, especially Thanksgiving, but it won’t be the same.”
“Change is inevitable,” Natalie adds.
“I hate change,” Blair mutters.
“Clearly,” Natalie says drolly, breaking the tension, making me giggle.
Making Blair giggle too. Until we’re all laughing. Natalie turns up the music and we start singing along with every song playing, driving into the stadium with the windows down despite how cold it is outside. Natalie wants to make sure everyone can hear us because she’s a show-off like that.
I don’t mind. I’m too excited for the game to care. Today is going to be a great day. I can feel it in my bones.
* * *
It’shalftime and our team is losing by two touchdowns and a field goal.
It’s not looking good, and I’m trying to put on a brave face, but deep down, I’m crushed. I know how important this game is to Knox and he’s probably devastated.
No, not devastated. More like he’s thoroughly pissed off.
“I can’t believe they’re losing.” Natalie sends me a worried look. “You think they can pull it off?”
“I hope so.” I tug at the white knit cap I’m wearing, shivering beneath my coat. I tried to wear just the shirt Knox got me, layering a long-sleeved thermal T-shirt beneath it, but eventually, I couldn’t stand the icy air any longer. I had to slip on the coat, covering up the number completely.
Thank goodness for the numbers painted on my cheek. They’re a nice touch, and I’ve seen more than a few women notice the number and frown in curiosity. We’re as public as we can be as a couple, but I’m thinking most people aren’t paying attention to what we’re doing, and I get it. Knox is the superstar.
Not me.
And now my superstar is having a bad day and I feel terrible for him. There’s nothing I can do to fix it either, which leaves me feeling helpless.
Blair seems to be suffering as well, and I know it has nothing to do with her being worried about her brother. I noticed the way her gaze tracked Cam every time he was on the field. Every throw, every sack, and the way she leapt to her feet with a gasp when the ball he threw was intercepted…
Yeah. Knox’s sister has a thing for his best friend and that makes me apprehensive, not going to lie. How is Knox going to feel about this potential relationship? He’s so overprotective of Blair, and he trusts that Cam would never overstep any boundaries.
It’s a little scary to think of the fallout potential from this. I don’t want to keep secrets, but if it’s obvious to me, could it be evident to Knox as well? Or are they really good at hiding it from him?
“We should go get hot chocolate,” Blair suggests as she stands, tucking her coat around her tightly. “I can’t sit here anymore. My butt is frozen and I’m too worried about this game.”
“Let’s go.” Natalie stands and I do too, following them down the steps and toward one of the concessions stands that are all over the stadium. The line at this one isn’t too terribly long and we make our way to the front quickly, ordering our drinks and Natalie ordering a hot dog with everything on it.
“Gross,” I tell her after she pays.
“Don’t judge my love for stadium hot dogs.” She sends me a look and I clamp my lips shut.
