Chapter 22 #2
“I’m a little competitive.” The understatement of the year. “Having a football coach as a dad will do that.”
Tasha gave a nod of approval. “You’re gonna fit right in.”
A smile tugged at my lips. It was like I just passed a test.
“Are you still in school?” Mila asked a moment later.
“No, I'm a figure skater,” I answered.
“Oh, so you wear those gorgeous outfits on the ice!” The excited gleam on Mila’s face made me chuckle.
“I do.”
“Hockey would be a lot more interesting if the guys wore that,” Tasha joked. We all laughed at that, the image of Mateo in one of my ice skating maillots coming to mind. Now that would be fun to see.
“Wonder if the guys could do any figure skating moves,” Josie mused.
“Mateo and I actually—” I snapped my mouth shut before I could finish. Inwardly, I prayed they didn’t hear the start of my sentence, but the way Tasha’s eyes flashed, she heard me. Same with Mila by the hitch of her breath behind me.
I was half tempted to say screw it and just blurt out that I was dating Mateo, but it didn’t really seem like the time or place to do that. That didn’t mean they weren’t putting the pieces together, though.
Before I could do damage control or admit I knew Mateo more than I let on, a whistle on the field drew all of our attention.
It wasn’t that I wanted to hide that I was with Mateo.
I just rather have him by my side when everyone found out.
Have him be there to take some of the questions away from me if need be.
Probably a coward's way out, but I didn’t care.
Wishing the girls would forget about what I almost admitted, but knowing they wouldn’t, I looked out onto the field. Mateo and Jake strode out to the center, the opposing team doing the same for the coin toss.
Cheers sounded around us as the players shook hands and the coin was flipped, the referees gesturing that the Titans would be the ones to get the ball first.
When Mateo came back to the sidelines while the offensive team headed for the field, he met my eyes again.
A soft smile curled the corner of his mouth.
The way he looked at me, even from feet away, made my heart flutter.
It was like he still couldn’t believe I was really here in the stands to support him.
And somehow, that look alone softened the tight knot of nerves in my chest.
With that small bit of courage, I figured I could survive the rest of the game with his family beside me until I saw him tonight.
“That was a bullshit call!” Wyatt yelled, as if the referee on the field could hear him. Around us, others shouted their agreement.
“Told you,” Tasha muttered beside me, making me put a hand over my mouth to hide my laugh.
Tasha was correct in her warning about the others getting into the game and yelling at the refs for calls. There were only a few minutes left in the fourth quarter, and all the guys cursed the refs at least twice. It was beyond entertaining.
There were a few times Mateo looked up into the stands at us like he heard whatever the guys had yelled, shaking his head but seemingly used to it.
Over the last three-ish hours, I had a good time getting to know everyone. It was mostly surface level information, but I learned how every couple got together, the men chiming in every so often while the girls told the stories.
I didn’t know how it happened, but the conversation shifted to Evelyn taking a nude painting class and how Josie and the others found out when they attended the class.
I almost died laughing at the expressions on Wyatt and Landon’s face.
Ironically, Steven didn’t mind and even said a body is just a body.
The way every single man cringed, horrified looks on their faces, set the rest of us into a fit of giggles. Clearly hearing their coach talk about naked bodies was something they didn’t want to listen to.
The longer I observed how they interacted and learned about their personalities, the more I came to understand how Mateo was the way he was. I knew his father left right after he was born, but he didn’t need that sorry excuse of a man when he had such an incredible family.
They were such a tight-knit group, and even though only three hours passed of getting to know them, I felt like maybe I could be a part of it.
No one brought up my mishap about Mateo or questioned me further about wearing his number.
In fact, none of them seemed to bat an eye at it.
I couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty for lying and not telling them exactly who I was, but every smile and inclusion in the conversation had me swallowing the confession.
I chugged my water as the hot afternoon sun beamed down on us. It was nearing one o’clock. It didn’t help the heat from making my skin feel sticky under my jersey.
“Why didn’t you guys sit up in a booth?” I asked randomly, glancing at Josie then back to the field where Mateo stood in a huddle. He was playing amazing. No interceptions, no fumbles, ten points ahead of the other team.
“If we bring the kids, we usually sit in the rooms, but we like to be in the stands mostly. Even at hockey games, we’re front and center.
There’s no better feeling than being with the fans and soaking up all the excitement,” Josie explained.
She wasn’t wrong. Hearing the fans cheer for Mateo was unlike anything I ever experienced.
It was intoxicating.
“When you come to Toronto, you’ll have to come to a game with us. If you think these fans are crazy, you haven’t seen Knights fans,” Josie said.
When, not if, I came to Toronto. I stared at the side of her face for a whole second, a flutter of emotions going through me all at once. It wasn’t even the words themselves that threw me. It was the way she casually said it, like it was only natural I’d come to a hockey game with the family.
“I’d really love that,” I murmured after a moment.
With the play clock ticking, I sat forward as Mateo clapped inside the huddle and everyone fanned out to their positions. A quick glance at the sidelines showed my dad clenching his clipboard in his crossed arms, eyes laser focused on his team.
I couldn’t see Mateo’s face under his helmet, but I could picture his blue eyes narrowed, body tense, ready to make one last play before the game ended. It didn't matter if the team was up, they wanted to score one more time.
Mateo bent at the waist, hands out and behind the guy who would hike him the ball. Despite the loud crowd, I could hear Mateo’s voice yelling out calls. His voice was deeper than it usually was as he looked one way down the line and back to the other.
He lifted his leg at the same time he yelled. The football went straight into his hand seconds before he shuffled backward, arm cocked back and ready to throw.
In a weird way, it was like watching a dance. The way Mateo bounced on his toes, head on a swivel as he looked for an open player. Players clashed in front and beside him, but like a well-oiled team, his defense blocked any opposing players from getting to their quarterback.
“RUN!” Both Josie and Wyatt bellowed beside me.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Mateo’s form as he suddenly darted to the left, an opposing player right on his tail. I swore he flew down the field as he ducked and weaved around players, football held tightly in his arm.
Beside me, the entire Boone family was standing and screaming. I didn’t even realize I was doing the same until my own yell reached my ears.
Mateo was well past the marker for a first down, still making his way down the field toward the end zone. He was going to do it. He was going to score a touchdown with only minutes left in the game.
“Run, Mateo!” I yelled, hands now clenching the railing in front of me.
A player came up on his side, making a move to tackle him, but at the last second, another body hit the guy, sending them both to the ground. I wasn’t sure who it was, but I knew it was one of the Titans.
The end zone was just a few feet away as Mateo twisted on a dime to avoid two players, feet slipping for just a moment on the grass. It didn’t seem to faze him because he kept running.
It was like slow motion as he neared the line only to have someone come up beside him out of the blue and slam into him. I let out a gasp as the two players tumbled forward, tangled together.
For a split second, I wondered if he didn’t make it until a whistle blew, followed by a gray and silver uniform jumping up, ball held over their head. It took a full moment for the screams to reach my ears as I stared at Mateo standing in the end zone.
He did it. He scored.
Jake and Perry all but tackled him in celebration.
Hands grabbed my shoulders, turning me to the left.
Tasha jumped up and down, screaming in my face.
Only a millisecond passed before I followed suit.
Grabbing her forearms as the two of us yelled together, everyone else around us celebrated as well.
“That’s how you do it,” Wyatt bellowed as Mateo and the others ran for the sidelines. There was only a minute left on the clock with no way for the other team to win.
My cheeks hurt from smiling as the team patted Mateo on the back. He walked through, slipping his helmet off. My stomach tugged at the sight of him shaking his head, hair a shade darker from sweat sticking to his forehead. I had no idea sweat could be so hot, but it was.
When he reached the side where we were all sitting, he glanced up, eyes landing on me. Not Josie, or his brothers, or his mom—me. The look he gave had me clenching the railing even tighter.
He looked irresistible. All the noise and people around me faded as I stared back. My entire focus narrowed down to him, helmet dangling from his fingers, shoulders heaving from the play, a smug hint of victory in the way he held himself.
I couldn’t stop the proud smile that pulled at my lips, knowing that incredible man was mine.