Chapter 12 #2
“Tontos enamorados. No es mi tropo favorito,” AbuelaNovela muttered.
Tempest glared at her grandmother, “She said it definitely sounds more than friendly.”
“We. Are. Just. Friends,” I said slowly, like the speed might make it truthier.
“The lady doth protest too much, methinks,” Tempest said, glancing at me sideways.
“Don't quote Hamlet at me.”
“It's actually from—“
“I don't care. The point is, you're all reading too much into a completely normal biological response to unexpected stimuli.”
Sara Jayne snorted. “Unexpected stimuli. Is that what we're calling your—“
I slapped my hand over her mouth.
I didn't have time to try and convince anyone, not that I could because Sloane appeared with her camera crew, looking polished and ready for game day action in a Bandits jersey that was definitely tailored.
Great.
“Artemis. So good to see you.” Her smile was very white. “That double date disaster is going to make for some great TV. Did you hear Rob and Puck are actually engaged now? They're getting married in Vegas next month after a couples skydiving trip.”
“That's... fast.”
“When you know, you know.” She studied me with calculating eyes. “So what did you and Gryff do after your dates left together?”
“We went to Flynn and Tempest's. Had margaritas. Normal friend activities.”
“Interesting that you both picked such wrong people for each other.” She tilted her head. “Almost like you were sabotaging each other's love lives.”
“We're just bad at matchmaking.” I waved her off and laughed too loud. “Very normal friend incompetence.”
“Some might say that suggests hidden feelings.” I suddenly noticed the camera pointed right at me along with everyone's eyes. “Not wanting the other to date anyone else?”
“Some would be wrong. We're friends. Furr-endzz. Amigos,” I said smiling at AbuelaNovela, who rolled her eyes.
She made a note on her tablet. “Right. Friends who live together and set each other up on terrible dates.” She made another note, and something about her expression made my skin crawl. Thankfully, the teams ran onto the field before she could probe further.
The game was incredible. I'd watched Gryff play football since high school, knew all his moves, his rhythms, the way he commanded his position. But this was different. This was professional football, faster and harder than college, and he was magnificent.
He made a massive block in the second quarter that sprang a touchdown. The stadium erupted, but before celebrating with his teammates, his head turned toward our section. Found me in the crowd. Grinned right at me.
“Did you see that?” Tempest asked. “He found you immediately.”
“He's looking for his family.”
“Mija, he looked right at you,” AbuelaNovela said.
“Every good play, he looks for you,” Sara Jayne added. “That's not friend behavior.”
“It's absolutely friend behavior. Very supportive friend behavior.”
Nana leaned over from behind me. “He's not looking at all of us, dear.”
“He's acknowledging his support system. Very healthy.”
Jules studied the field while handing out trays of nachos. “He's playing like he's been getting laid. Have you two been—“
“No!”
“Huh. Could've fooled me.” She stared at me pointedly. “That kind of energy usually comes from somewhere.”
“Maybe he's just excited about his first professional game?”
“Is that what you kids are calling it today? Excited?” Et tu, Grandma De le Reine? Really?
Jules raised an eyebrow. “Sure. That's definitely it.”
Flynn made an incredible tackle, and Tempest jumped up screaming. I jumped up too when Gryff made another key block, and I realized I was cheering louder for him than anyone.
“Just roommates though?” Tempest asked with a smirk.
“Best friends can be enthusiastic supporters.”
“The lady doth—“
“I will throw these nachos at you.”
In the third quarter, a massive defensive tackle from San Diego, built like a mountain, broke through the line and hit Gryff hard. He went down and didn't immediately get up.
I was on my feet before I realized it, my hands pressed to my heart, a sound escaping that might have been his name.
He rolled over, pushed himself up, and immediately looked toward our section. Found my face. Gave me a thumbs up and that grin that meant he was fine.
I sat down, shaking.
AbuelaNovela leaned over and patted my hand. “?Solo bésalo ya!”
“She is happy he is okay,” Tempest explained.
“Sí,” I agreed.
After the game, families were allowed down on the field. The moment Gryff saw us approaching, he bypassed his grandparents, his agent, even Flynn, and came straight for me.
He was sweaty and glowing from the win, his hair stuck to his forehead, and he looked so happy I couldn't help but smile back.
“Did you see that block in the third?” He was practically vibrating with excitement.
“You scared me when that mountain of a man hit you.”
His expression softened. “Were you worried about me?”
“Of course I was worried. You're my—“
Before I could finish, he picked me up in a hug, spinning me around. I shrieked, laughing, my hands automatically going to his shoulders, which were very broad and solid under his pads.
When he set me down, he didn't immediately let go, his hands staying on my waist. “The jersey looks perfect on you.”
“It's a little big.”
“It's perfect,” he repeated, and something in his voice made my stomach flip.
Sloane was definitely filming this. Everyone was watching with knowing looks. But for a moment, I forgot about all of them, caught in whatever was happening in the space between us.
Then Flynn cleared his throat loudly. “Are we interrupting something?”
“Nope,” I stepped back quickly. “Just celebrating. With my friend. Platonically.”
“Right,” Flynn said, exchanging a look with Tempest. “Platonically.”
Gryff didn't seem phased by any of this. “DeMarcus Clay has some trendy bar called The Beach reserved for a celebration. Who wants to take the grands home and who wants to partay?”
“I nominate Jules for grandparent duty.” She'd been far too nosy all night, and she was overly perceptive.
“Ah, man.” Jules whined.
“Come, mija. We will take you to get the best tacos in LA and we will tell you how our families were fated to be united.”
“Okay, that sounds like the tea. I'm in.” She flipped the four of us off. “See you suckers later. I'm getting tacos and hot gossip.”
When we got to the bar, we were some of the first to arrive, so we were able to get a table. Tempest gave Flynn a kiss on the cheek and then a shove. “Go find us some drinks, boys.”
“Temperino.” A gorgeous Latina woman waved. “What did you think of your first game?”
“Everyone, this is Artie,” Tempest introduced me. “She's—“
“Gryff's girlfriend.” The woman, Martinez's wife, according to her jersey, pulled me into a hug. “We've been dying to meet you. I'm Vanessa, this is Jade and Priya, the unofficial welcome committee to the PALs club. We need to get you involved.”
“Oh, I'm not... we're just roommates. Friends. Platonic cohabiters.”
The stunning, sophisticated Black woman gave me a wave. “I'm Jade. You're the roommate? My fiancé says Gryff doesn't shut up about you.”
“He talks about me?” Something fluttered in my chest that I squashed immediately.
“According to DeMarcus, constantly,” said. “He says your name comes up more than plays in the locker room.”
“My husband says the same,” added Priya. “It's actually kind of adorable.”
“We're just very close friends. We've been friends for a real long time.
If something was going to happen, it would have happened.
We're basically siblings. Well, not siblings, that's weird.
But like... cousins? No, that's worse. Just very, very platonic friends who happen to live together. Platonically.”
The women all exchanged looks like they were looking at an animal gnawing its own leg off in a trap. I was saved from any further verbal explosions from the boys bringing back drinks.
“Strawberry margarita,” Gryff said, handing it to me with that grin that made my stomach do things I was ignoring.
The night became a blur of congratulations, teammates introducing themselves, more PALs making knowing comments about Gryff and me. Every time I turned around, someone was assuming we were together, and my denials were getting weaker.
“Just friends,” I said for the hundredth time when DeMarcus Clay asked how long we'd been dating.
“Sure,” DeMarcus said, clearly not believing me. “The way he looks at you is very... friendly.”
Three margaritas in, actual alcoholic ones this time, surrounded by people who kept insisting Gryff was in love with me, something shifted in my slightly tipsy brain.
What if they were right?
What if everyone, Tempest, Sara Jayne, the PALs, his grandparents, his teammates, what if they all saw something I was missing?
The bathtub incident flashed through my mind. The way he looked for me after every good play. How he'd bypassed everyone to hug me first.
Gryff had been pulled away, and I glanced over at him across the bar, laughing with Flynn and some other players. He must have felt my stare because he looked up, caught my eye, and smiled that soft smile that was just for me.
My heart did something complicated.
“Hypothetically,” I said to Tempest, who'd appeared at my elbow, “if I wanted to test whether someone had feelings for me...”
“Oh my god, are you finally—“
“Hypo. Thetic. Ally.”
Tempest studied my face. “Hypothetically, you could try something that would give you a definitive answer. Something that friends wouldn't do.”
“Like what?”
She raised an eyebrow. “You know what.”
I did know what. The idea was insane. Completely ridiculous. It would change everything.
Everyone kept insisting he was in love with me, and I needed to know. I needed to prove once and for all that we were just friends, that everyone was wrong, that the towel incident was just biology and nothing more.
I picked up the remainder of my strawberry margarita and drained it in one gulp. Then I turned toward the bar and found myself staring right into his eyes.