Chapter 28
SBB
February
Flyers Go Big or Go Home for Super Bowl Sunday.
After a record-breaking season, the beloved L.A.
Flyers face the ultimate test against the Sleighton Slayers in this year’s Super Bowl.
Led by Chase Andrews and second-string-turned-starting-quarterback Johnathan Petes, the team has been a top pick since the start of the season.
It all boils down to the game today in Miami.
Do the Flyers have what it takes to go all the way?
“I'm sorry, I just still really don't understand none of this shit! What does that mean?” Mona asked loudly as she pouted and crossed her arms. My eyes scanned over everyone in the private suite until they landed on her standing there with her arms crossed and a pouty expression on her face.
“It means you sit there and shut the fuck up for the next two minutes and thirty-seven seconds!
Don't ask no more questions right now!” I snapped.
I loved my girl, but coming to the biggest fucking game of the year and then deciding that she wanted to learn about the game of football had to be the most annoying thing she had done all day.
“Wow!” Mona pouted, then tucked her bottom lip between her teeth.
She knew I didn't mean it, but she also knew that I was stressed as fuck, for multiple reasons.
I watched out of the corner of my eye as Tahmir led her to the window of our suite, put his arms around her and started explaining the rules for the hundredth time that day.
That was cute, but at that moment, I didn't have the time or patience for cute. We were one play away from the biggest moment of my man's life, good or bad… and I needed it to be good. Luckily, most of Chase’s family were located on the other side with my parents, so they didn’t hear me crashing out, because I would have been mortified if they heard how I had been up there cussing like a sailor for the entire game.
“Girl… are you good?” Mani asked as she gently grabbed my arm.
I must have looked like I was hanging by a lone coochie hair because she looked nervous as fuck to even approach me.
I felt like the biggest hypocrite for the way I had been acting, especially since I had been on her case for the last few months about really cleaning her image up.
At least I was crashing out in private with my own people.
“Yeah… Shit, no. I'm going down there!”
“Amaya, girl,” Joce fussed from where she sat with June and Laila.
“I can’t stay up here. I’m literally gonna worry myself into a fucking panic attack. I’m okay, y’all. I’m just going down to watch the end from the field.”
“Here,” Rome offered, slipping on his jacket. “I’ll walk with you.”
I didn’t answer, putting my jacket on as well before we hurried out the door.
“You know you didn't have to come,” I said softly.
“I know,” he answered. “But I really wasn’t trying to hear that nigga’s mouth if he found out I let you make this trip alone.”
“Well, thank you,” I said with a warm smile, realizing that I already felt much better. Something about being in the room with all those people made it hard for me to breathe, which was odd because I usually thrived in chaos.
“Anytime… Listen, you gotta relax… Win or lose, I promise that nigga will be okay.”
“Yeah,” I said with a nod. “That’s what I keep telling him, but I worry about him. He puts so much pressure on himself.”
“He’s starting to ease up a little bit… with your help.”
“You think so?” I asked with a frown. Just last week he tried to ration the damn toilet tissue. I cussed him out and asked him if he wanted me walking around pissy, and he got over that quick.
“I’ve known him my whole life, and he’s never been as relaxed as he is with you. I mean, you got that man blowing bags on you, changing up his routines. You came in and shook that niggas life up… in the best way. Not like that bullshit with Chanel. He’s happy, Amaya.”
“Good,” I murmured, trying to hold back the tears in my eyes. “Because he makes me just as happy.” The two of us shared a silent nod of acknowledgment before making the rest of the walk in silence.
We fucking did it!
Well… he did, but I was there.
In what I knew would go down in history as one of the most clutch Super Bowl wins, Chase dodged a sack and made a twenty-five yard pass right into the hands of Johnathan, who ran the ball into the end zone with only seconds to spare.
I was a mess of tears, anxiety, and Flyer team red and yellow confetti as Rome and stadium security led me through what felt like a million people to find my man.
Because I was behind Rome, he got the first hug as he and Chase yelled something to each other that I couldn’t make out due to the deafening roar of the people surrounding me.
The moment he locked eyes with me it was like every single person around us evaporated.
I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
Nothing that I could think of could begin to express how I felt in that moment.
I watched him all season as he fought to improve on things that I thought were perfect.
Early mornings, late nights, putting his body through unimaginable stress, all for this moment.
All I could do was pray that he knew the magnitude of what he had just accomplished.
“I’m so fucking proud of you,” was all I could manage to get out as the tears consumed me and he scooped me off the ground and into the biggest bear hug that I ever experienced.
“Thank you for holding me down, baby,” he said through tears of his own as he pulled me into a kiss.
Usually, I would have fussed at him for getting his sweat on me, but in that moment, I would have climbed right in that damn jersey with him if I could.
I felt soft as hell, but I loved it here.
I just knew that somebody would have pictures of our crybaby asses all over social media by the end of the night with all those disgustingly cute hashtags and edits.
I pretended like I didn’t like them, but having real life trailers of my relationship on hand brightened my day every fucking time, and I had all the good ones saved to a secret folder.
For the longest time, he just held me, letting us both cry it out until we dried each others’ tears and went in for another kiss.
“Your man just won the Super Bowl! What are you gonna do now, Toni?” he teased as he squeezed me everywhere, so close to me that the tip of his nose grazed my lips and nose.
“I'm definitely giving you Super Bowl winning pussy and throat tonight,” I whispered in his ear before giving him a sly smile.
“Oh, hell yeah,” he chuckled as he brought me in for a kiss.
“And then maybe… We can look up names for our Super Bowl Baby?” I blurted out with a wince, trying to be casual even though my stomach was in the same knots that it had been in all day.
“Our what?” His eyes grew wider than the fucking Jumbotron as he looked down at me.
“Congratulationsss,” I sang awkwardly. I thought about giving him the test that had been burning a hole in my purse all day but decided against it.
That morning, during our third argument of the trip, I convinced Mona's moody ass to take a pregnancy test. We had been bickering the entire time, and everybody was looking at us crazy.
She agreed, but said she didn't want to do it alone.
Only one was positive.
I damn near had a stroke when I realized that it was mine. I think she may have been a little disappointed, but she still cried happy tears with me in the bathroom of the rental. Ultimately, I had to apologize, because I was the one trippin’.
“How?” He still seemed stunned. The nigga had just won his third Super Bowl and this is what had him stumped.
“Okay… remember 6th grade Sex Ed class? Your penis. My vagina.” As I spoke, I took one hand and made a fist, then took three fingers from my other hand for size accuracy and pumped them into my fist.
“There was a lot of cussing and then, I'm sure you said, ‘Shit Amaya, you bout to make me bust!’ And here we are. I'm guessing it was New Year’s.”
After a huge win, I coaxed him into having just a few shots with me.
The night ended with an empty bottle of Casamigos, a pair of draws hanging from the ceiling fan…
and apparently an unplanned pregnancy. Somewhere in the madness, I vaguely remember him eating caramel syrup off my titties…
and my toes, but that part may have been a fever dream.
“I… Amaya,” he choked out, barely able to speak.
“Wait, are you—mad?” My brows shot up. “If you think you're about to knock me up and leave me, you got me fucked up! This baby was made from love… and Tequila. I’m—”
“Amaya, shut up,” he said, pulling me in for another kiss.
“I’m shocked, but happy. I couldn’t be more excited that your crazy ass is carrying my seed.
I love you, baby.” When his hand slid under my jacket to rub my lower belly, I could finally breathe again, tears filling my eyes as I pulled him in for a deeper kiss.
“I love you too, Chase.”
THE END…