Epilogue
Eight Months Later
It had been eight months since that Valentine’s date with Jason.
We’d had many ups and downs over the past eight months.
About three months in, we’d gotten into a fight about something inconsequential.
I couldn’t remember the reason we’d started fighting, but I remembered feeling like it would be the end of us.
We went two days barely talking or texting, and I was so certain he was going to call it quits.
Instead, he showed up in the middle of the night, drenched from the early summer rain.
He kissed me, apologized, and we talked for hours before we made love.
It was the first night I told him I loved him.
We’d learned a lot about one another in the past eight months, too.
When football season started, we had to figure out how we could coexist. There were a few times our teams played at the same time.
We’d go back to our own places during those games.
I’d come to appreciate the Foxes after watching some of their games with him, and I was pretty sure I almost had him liking the Gladiators more than he had in the past.
Unfortunately, this was the season when the Gladiators and the Foxes were scheduled to play one another.
We’d thought about watching the game separately, but I invited him to my apartment instead.
I could handle his shit talking now, now that I knew it wasn’t anything personal.
I’d heard him spew the same profanities and rudeness toward every other team the Foxes had played this season.
Hell, he’d even thrown them out at a few teams the Gladiators had played, though it was mainly when they played teams in the Foxes’ division.
We ordered a pizza from Pie in the Sky, and he’d brought over a case of beer.
“We should make a bet,” I suggested as we settled on the couch with paper plates of pizza and a bottle of beer each. “Give you a real reason for your shit talk. Especially when your team loses.”
His head swiveled toward me, and I wished I had a camera to capture the look of shock on his face.
He hadn’t expected me to start in on him or his team, but I’d obviously been spending too much time with him.
The shock changed to intrigue as he mulled over my words.
He put his beer bottle down on the coffee table. “What did you have in mind?”
I thought for a moment. I needed the bet to be something interesting.
He wasn’t one of my friends. I didn’t want to make a bet for something as common as money.
I also didn’t want to choose anything that could be humiliating.
I’d thought about making him wear one of my Gladiators jerseys for Casual Friday, but then I’d be stuck wearing his Foxes jersey if my team lost. His students might not give him a hard time, but mine certainly would.
They knew where my team loyalty lied, and they had a lot to say about it already.
Living in Foxes territory could be a pain in the ass sometimes.
Besides, he’d already lost a bet like that with his friend last season. No, it had to be something better than that.
“How about the winner gets a day where the loser has to do whatever they want. Within reason,” he suggested when I’d been quiet for too long.
“They can choose whatever activities they want, dinner that night, all of it. The loser can’t say no unless it’s something too insane like matching tattoos or something permanent like that. ”
I stuck my hand into the space between us. “Sounds good.” We shook on it.
It was a good game. Our two teams were evenly matched, and they stayed within a score of each other the entire time.
In the final moments, the Gladiators scored, tying the game and sending it into overtime.
Jason was losing his mind. He’d been running his mouth the entire game, though he’d managed to keep it kinder than he had that first game all those months ago when we’d met.
I wasn’t sure if he was just tempering it because he loved me or if he’d been too caught up in the game to run his mouth as much as he usually would.
Whatever restraint he had been practicing shattered once overtime started.
“Hope you’re ready to be at my beck and call,” he taunted as his team started overtime with the possession.
“Not a chance, babe,” I countered, with a lot more confidence than I felt. The Foxes had been playing really well that game, a lot better than I’d expected when I made the bet with him. The Gladiators would have already lost if it hadn’t been for that last minute Hail Mary.
I felt like I was holding my breath as the Foxes ran the ball down the field and scored a touchdown. “It’s fine,” I muttered. “It’s fine. The Gladiators still have a chance to tie it back up.”
“Not a chance, babe,” Jason teased back, tossing my own words back in my face. I stuck my tongue out at him, the picture of maturity. “I’m already making plans for our day, Vic. I’ve already got a few ideas, and you’re going to love them.”
I was terrified.
There was a certain look in his eyes that told me that whatever he had planned would not be in the top ten list of things I liked to do.
I imagined doing things that made me tackle that fear of heights I’d had for too long—roller coasters or hot air balloon rides or something.
Or maybe an hour of tickle torture because Jason did love to take advantage of the fact that I was ticklish at the worst possible moments.
I watched the final few plays of the game, hoping and praying that the Gladiators wouldn’t let me down. Unfortunately, the Foxes defense was too good this year. They stopped our final attempt at a touchdown.
Jason started hooting and hollering, dancing around my living room like an idiot. Even in my terror at whatever he had planned, I couldn’t help laughing. I couldn’t help falling deeper in love with him and his antics.
“Hope you know we’re going to a Foxes game and you’re driving,” he declared after he calmed down.
I laughed and pulled him back down to the couch for a kiss.
“I love you,” I told him as we separated.
And I did. I loved him for everything that he was—even the infuriating bits.
The End