“Alright,” he said, pulling me down until we were both sitting and out of everyone’s way. “Now that this hot dog has his girl back, let’s see if we can land this W.”
I threw my hands up. “Let’s do it!” Then, with less than five minutes of playing time left, I stood again, starting the Bear Down fight song.
Zach joined in first, then Janet and Roy, and before long, the entire stadium was singing together.
The snow fell harder, but we all stayed and cheered on our Bears in spite of the cold biting at our noses. You could see the quarterback’s breath as he called out each play, and every time a player took a hit, he took it hard, with the cold working against them in every way.
But still, they played.
Still, they fought.
This was what I loved about football — not just the sport, but the players, the fandom. Nothing stopped us. It didn’t matter what the score was, or how impossible the odds were. Until that last whistle blew, we would be there, on our feet, fighting for the win.
I grabbed Zach’s hand, squeezing it as our eyes met. And that’s when I realized that it was the same for us. We were in it together, no matter what was to come, and we would fight for the win. For each other.
Until the last whistle blew.
We won.
The Bears clenched their spot in the playoff to the tune of the Packers missing a field goal in the last few seconds of the game, sealing our win and our guaranteed spot. It’d been a night for the record books — both with the snow and the score — and for me, personally, it’d been a night I’d never forget.
“Playoff-bound,” Zach murmured into my ear as we made our way out of Soldier Field. His arm was around me, and he pulled me to a stop every few feet to take photos with fans holding out their phones. We were like local celebrities, Hot Dog and His Girl.
“How do you suggest we start the celebrations?” he asked after we’d completed a giant group selfie with a family of seven.
“Oh, I don’t know…” I said, pulling him to a stop off to the side. The crowd still weaved around us, cheering, music blasting from every direction as the celebrations continued. But in that moment, I only saw Zach, and I leaned up to kiss his lips. “Maybe we should consult that list you started.”
Zach swept his tongue over mine, holding me as much as he could with the giant hot dog suit restricting his arms. “I only added one thing to that list, and we already checked that off.”
“You only added one thing…”
His brows rose with recognition. “Are you saying… are there more items on the list now?”
I nodded, biting my lip.
“Things we haven’t done yet?”
I nodded again.
“Like…”
I kissed him again, this time slowing the pace, pulling his bottom lip between my teeth in a sensual bite that we both felt reverberate through us.
“Guess you’ll have to take me home to find out.”
Zach growled, kissing me hard before he dipped, hands finding my back and the crook of my knees. He lifted me, cradling me in his arms as he wobbled through the still-celebrating crowd. I handed out high-fives as we passed fans on our way to the cab line, the energy finally finding me — because the Bears weren’t the only ones victorious that night.
The game was finally over.
The score was finally set.
In the end, we both lost a little, but we both walked away wearing those scars with pride. We ended that game with our heads held high, and with my hand in his as the cab took us across town and back to my place.
“I told you I’d be the right winner in the end,” he said, pressing a kiss to my neck.
“I think we both won.”
“A tie?” Zach huffed. “Ugh, I hate ties. The worst possible way to end a game.” His eyes softened as he pulled me into his side, and he smiled, tapping my nose before he kissed the same spot. “But, in this case, I think I’m okay with it.”
Me, too, Zach Bowen.
Me, too.
Gemma
ten months later
“Hit me! I’m open!” Micah called out, running with one arm outstretched across the part of the lot we’d claimed as our own.
His shaggy hair blew back in the cool September breeze, and Zach wound up, throwing a perfect spiral that Micah caught easily before running past his father.
I smiled, watching Zach sprint across the lot and pretend-tackle Micah to the grass. They rolled a few times before Zach retrieved the ball that Micah had fumbled, running it back this way with his little brother hot on his trail. Their dad just watched with a grin of his own, shaking his head.
It was a cool, gray day in September, and it was a welcome reprieve from the steaming summer we’d had. Not that I minded getting out of the condo and exploring the city with Zach all summer long, but fall was always my favorite season, and I welcomed it with arms wide open.
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into another football game,” Belle said from where she sat in the shade under our tent. She scooped a chip into the guac on her plate, popping it in her mouth with a loud crunch. “I thought I got out of this once I suckered you into that whole scheme last year.”
“Come on,” I said, leaning a hip against the table that had our food spread on it. “It’s the home opener, Belle. And now that Zach and I have tickets together, we want to start traditions.” I stole a chip from her plate and pointed it at her. “You, missy, are part of those traditions. Whether you want to be or not.”
“I mean, like you said, it was your idea to get us together in the first place,” Zach chimed in, panting and wiping the sweat from his forehead as he leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Besides, maybe you’ll find love of your own here at Soldier Field.”
Belle scoffed at that, standing long enough to pile more snacks on her plate before she plopped down again. “Fat chance of that, PITA boy. I’ve got a strict three-night policy, and most guys don’t even make it that far.”
“What about Doctor Jordan?” I asked with a smirk. “Seems like he’s surpassed that three night rule pretty easily.”
“We have an understanding,” Belle piped back, avoiding my eyes. When I just kept watching her, she shooed me away. “Alright, you, that’s enough. Don’t give me that look.”
“I’m not giving you any kind of look,” I said, hands up in surrender.
“Mm-hmm.” Belle kicked back in her chair, chomping on a chip as Pamela swept under the tent with another plate full of hot dogs.
“Alright, that’s all of them,” she said with a wide grin. “Now, come on, boys,” she said to Zach, Micah, and Daniel. “And ladies,” she said to us next. “Dig in before all this gets cold.”
She didn’t have to tell any of us twice. It took less than ten minutes for each one of us to have a plate piled high with either a burger, a hot dog, or — in Zach’s case — both. There were about twenty sides too many spread out on the table, but somehow, we managed to dig into every container between the six of us. We chowed down, talking over the music blasting from Micah’s speaker and sharing stories with other Bears fans that passed by on their way into the stadium.
Belle and Pamela were locked into a conversation about the back room Pamela was redoing in the house, and my gaze drifted to Zach, who sat across the tent next to his younger brother. His mouth was full as he argued about one of the baseball teams fighting for the playoffs, and I just smiled, thinking about how far we’d come in the past year.
It was hard to believe that this time one year ago, we’d only just met. It was almost a year to the day since we’d had our practice round, a game that would have more of an impact on my life than I ever could have known. It had all started as something that was never supposed to go past one night, a plan in place so I could avoid getting my heart broken again.
I laughed out loud thinking about it.
It hadn’t been an easy year, though it’d been filled with beautiful memories. We’d shared the holiday season togethe
r last year, growing closer, sharing more about our pasts and making traditions of our own. The winter had been hard, the year anniversary of Carlo’s passing hitting me harder than I expected. But, Zach had been there for me, and he even went to Carlo’s grave with me so I could say some things out loud that I never said to him when he was alive.
Being there with Zach, his hand in mine as I cried and spilled truths I didn’t even know I’d been holding onto was one of the most therapeutic moments of my life.
And from that moment on, everything seemed to fall into place for us.
Zach had his own tough decisions to make over the holiday season, and I’d held his hand through that — although, if I was being honest, I was so happy with the choice he’d finally made.
Doc’s Bar was still alive and well — and Zach was the new owner.
Once the paperwork was finished, Doc had flown to St. Croix, and he hadn’t been back since. Still, he called all the time to check in on us, and we kept his spirit alive in the bar with all the same décor the patrons had come to know and love. But, with my help on the back end of everything, Zach had been able to make some improvements with the extra cash we’d saved during tax season — making the bar his own, too.
And we were busier than ever.
I’d even started helping out as a bartender on some nights of the week — especially throughout the summer when the Cubs were on fire. But we had a pact — every Saturday night, we took off work to go to family dinner. And, now that fall was back, every Sunday was ours for football.
The rest of the staff could handle the weekends.
“Ew,” Belle said, smacking my arm and dragging my attention away from Zach. “Quit staring at him like you’re taking his clothes off without any of us being any the wiser. His mother’s right here.”
I chuckled. “Don’t tell me not to ogle my man.” Zach looked at me then, and he grinned, casting me a wink before turning back to his conversation. “I mean, have you seen him? You know you’d ogle, too, if he was yours.”
Belle made a gag sound, but she smiled, leaning into me with a sigh.
“You two make a pretty good team, you know that?” she asked.
I found his eyes from across the tent again, and I sighed the same as her. “We really do.”
An hour before kick-off, we started packing up our tailgating supplies and filing into the stadium. Zach and I had the same season passes from last year, but we’d purchased four extra in the same row for the home opener, wanting to celebrate the first game of the season with our closest family and friends. We were all jazzed up as we made our way inside, stopping to get beers and sodas before making our way down to our section.
When we made it to our row and started squeezing past the few people at the end, I smiled at the familiar faces in the seats next to ours.
“Oh, we hoped you guys would be back!” Janet said, standing with glossy eyes and wrapping me in a hug as soon as I was close enough. “It wouldn’t be the same without Hot Dog and His Girl.”
Zach and I both laughed at that as Zach leaned past me to hug Janet next.
“We’ll never live that down,” he said, waving at Ron once Janet had taken her seat again.
Ron just nodded our way, but there was a hint of a smile on that old man’s face.
“Internet sensation that was,” Janet said. “My sister down in Utah even saw it on TV. She said it was the cutest thing she’d seen all year.”
“Should have seen him trying to get out of it later that night,” I said. “That was the cutest thing.”
Janet blushed, laughing as she nudged me with a wink. “Oh, I bet it was.”
We all took our seats, chatting as we waited for the game to get started, and shortly before kick-off, Zach’s phone lit up with Doc’s face on the screen.
“Well, if it isn’t the island man,” Zach said, holding the phone up so both his and my face could fit in the screen.
Doc grinned from the other side, a tropical paradise spread out in the background behind him. I couldn’t hear the ocean with the crowd around us, but I knew the sound from our other calls, and Rita was there at his side, too, her dark skin shining in the sun.
“How’s the weather there, champ?” Doc teased.
“Cool, breezy, and fall-ish. Don’t you miss it?”
“Not even a little bit,” Doc answered, putting one arm around Rita and tucking her into his side. She waved at me from where she snuggled into him, and though she never spoke much, it didn’t take more than a look at the two of them together to see how happy they were in love.
“Doesn’t feel the same without you here for the season, Doc,” I said.
“Ah, maybe the Bears will actually win it all this year. We got so close last season.”
“Gah, why you gotta bring up sore subjects?” Zach said. I frowned, too, remembering how we’d lost the second game in the playoff race, losing our chance at the big game.
“Hey, we’ll get ‘em this year,” I chimed in.
“That’s the spirit, sweetheart.” Doc lifted his sunglasses, eyes glistening a little. “Well, I know it’s almost kick-off there, I just… I just wanted to see you guys on the big day.”
“Big day?” I asked.
Doc shrugged, putting his sunglasses back in place. “You know, the home opener. First game of the season, first time starting all your traditions.” He paused. “First time at a game together where you’re not causing headaches for yourselves or the ones who love you.”
“Hear, hear,” Belle piped from the side, tilting her beer into camera view.
Doc chuckled.
“Anyway, I’ll let you guys go. We’ll be watching from paradise.”
“Are there even any TVs there?” Zach teased, but Doc just smiled wider.
“No screens, no shoes, no problem.”
I leaned into Zach’s side, waving goodbye at Doc before Zach ended the call. He tucked the phone into his back pocket before wrapping me up in his arms as best he could with the arm rest between us. His lips pressed against my forehead, and he sighed.
“Hard to believe we’re here again, isn’t it?” he said.
“A lot has changed.”
“It has. But some things are still the same,” he argued. “Like how amazing you look in that Bears tank top. That’s the same one you wore on our first date, you know?”
“Oh, is it?” I faked surprise, looking down at the logo stretched across my chest. “I didn’t realize.”
“Sure you didn’t.” Zach tickled my side. “Little tease, just wait till I get you home.”
I laughed, pushing him off me as the anthem started, and we all stood to pay honor to our country. After that, the game kicked off, and we settled in for the first quarter.
I was glad we’d invited our family there for the first game, especially when we scored. It was more fun celebrating with a group of people you knew than a bunch of strangers — not that I didn’t still share high-fives with everyone around us, too. But, being there with Zach, with the family we’d made together? It was everything I’d ever wanted in my football season.
He was everything I’d ever wanted in my life.
It was hard to believe how much he’d changed me, opened me, shown me how to trust and how to face my fears. He’d made me feel more loved than I ever had in my entire life in just one short year, and I hoped there would be many more to come.
“Hey, excuse me, miss?”
Janet tapped me on the shoulder, pointing to where one of the interns with the Bears was trying to get my attention from the aisle.
“Would you and your boyfriend like to come onto the field during the quarter break for a game?”
I smiled, turning to Zach with wide eyes. “Oh! Babe, can we? Are you down?”
He looked skeptical, nose scrunching up as he glanced at the kid and then back at me.
“Pleaseeee,” I begged, batting my lashes.
He sighed. “Well, like I can say no to that.”
“Yay!”
<
br /> I jumped up, grabbing his hand and tugging him with me as we squeezed past Janet, Roy, and the rest of the row to get to the aisle. We followed the kid with the clipboard and headset up to the lower levels of our section, and the security guards opened the lower field gates for him once they saw him, letting us through.
And then, we were on the field.
“Oh, my God!” I whispered, tugging on Zach’s jersey sleeve. “We’re on the field. This is so cool! Oh, look! We’re so close to the players!”
I pointed at the different players I knew, and Zach entertained me the whole time, though he seemed like he was about to crawl out of his own skin. You would think after him having the entire stadium’s attention on him last year when he was dressed up as a hot dog, that he’d be calm in situations like this. But, Zach got nervous, too — and it always seemed to come out in the strangest times.
I squeezed his hand. “This will be fun.”
He swallowed. “Yeah.”
Smiling, I held his hand tighter as the whistle blew on the first quarter and the intern hustled us into place for the game we were going to play. The girl known for running their social media and break entertainment games came up beside us with a camera ready to go, explaining that we were going to try to get three balls into target holes that were set up at varying distances — the final one being the farthest.
“So, which one of you is going to throw?”
Zach immediately pointed at me, and I laughed. “Guess it’s me.”
“You’ll have sixty seconds to get them all. You ready?”
I nodded as she handed me the ball, and on her signal, I fired away.
I nailed the first target easily, running over to the second target with adrenaline surging through me. I missed the first two throws on that one, but hit the third, and the crowd roared when I started running toward the third and last target.
It was a far throw, and I was having trouble getting the ball to fall in the right way to sail through the tiny hole in the target. It bounced off the right, the left, the right again before the crowd started counting down.
The Wrong Game Page 31