The Trouble With Quarterbacks

by R.S. Grey

Now, I notice feminine touches that weren’t here the last time I came over: a porcelain cat statue near the door, a little framed watercolor of a bouquet of roses, pink hand towels hanging on a hook in the hall bathroom. I peer in and see there’s also a new fuzzy pink mat near the sink.

  I find Jay and Kat in the kitchen. They’re wearing matching aprons that say “Mr. Chef” and “Mrs. Chef”. There’s a crystal vase with roses sitting on the island. Jay’s wearing slacks and a pink shirt.

  What the fuck have I walked in on?

  “Logan! Hi! Lovely of you to join us,” Kat says, hurrying around the island so she can take the bottle of wine out of my hands. “Oh, a merlot! Perfect. We’re having steak, so this will go really well with dinner.” She turns back to Jay. “Sweetums, how are the potatoes coming?”

  “They look good. Just a few more minutes, I think.”

  I haven’t known Jay to cook. Ever.

  I look behind me, worried I might have stepped into a twilight zone back by the door. There are candles lit everywhere, and soft jazz playing. Either he’s been abducted by aliens or he’s totally in love.

  “Make yourself comfortable, Logan,” Kat says, patting one of the new paisley-print bar stools. “I’ll open this and let it air out.”

  Right.

  “Things between you two seem to be going well,” I point out.

  Kat and Jay look at each other then reach their hands out to touch, as if the small distance between them is too much.

  “They are. Aren’t they, Pookie?” Jay says.

  Pookie?!

  Kat blushes and nods in agreement.

  There’s another knock on the front door, and Kat squeals. “That’ll be Candace!”

  She hurries to answer it, and I lean forward.

  “Jay, man…do you need help? Blink twice if you want me to call the police.”

  He only laughs and shakes his head as if I couldn’t possibly understand how happy and in love he is.

  I hear voices in the hall and turn to watch Candace walk in wearing a short sky blue dress and flats. Her blonde hair is down and straight, and her eyes seem to be even brighter than usual.

  “What’s with the personalized doormat out front?” she asks Kat. “It has your name on it and everything.”

  “Oh yes. Sweetums got me that for our anniversary.”

  “Anniversary?” Candace asks with a confused frown.

  “Yes. Our one-week.”

  “Oh jeez. You’ve gone absolutely mad. And wait, did I just hear you say Sweetums?”

  Candace finally notices me in the kitchen and stops dead in her tracks.

  I smile.

  She narrows her eyes.

  I walk toward her and she stays stock-still, peering up at me skeptically as I approach.

  “Hi Candace. You look lovely.”

  I bend down to kiss her cheek, and she sucks in an audible breath.

  “Logan. Hello. I didn’t realize you’d be here.”

  “Surprised?”

  “More than a little.”

  “You look better. Did you have that doctor’s appointment today?”

  I look down and see that the bandage covering her hand is gone and there’s a small Band-Aid in its place, where the cut must still be healing.

  “Yes, but of course, you know that.”

  “Pookie, could you come help me pour the wine?” Jay asks.

  Kat skitters away, and Candace scrunches her face.

  “Pookie?” she mouths at me.

  “Don’t ask.”

  “Did you see the doormat?” she whispers.

  “I missed it.”

  “Make sure you look on the way out. It’s totally whacko!” she continues, keeping her voice down. “Have they fallen off the deep end?”

  There’s a groan of pleasure behind us, and we both turn to see Jay spooning some potatoes into Kat’s mouth while she flutters her eyes in ecstasy.

  “Oh, blech,” Candace groans. “I’ve totally lost my appetite.”

  “That’s fine. Let me take you on a quick tour while they finish dinner.”

  “I don’t think I want—”

  I’m already taking her purse from her and setting it on the couch. Then I push her down the closest hallway, shouting back at Kat and Jay, “We’ll be right back! I just want to show Candace your view, Jay.”

  “Cool, man. Dinner will be ready in about ten.”

  “All right, easy there,” Candace says once we’re walking down the hall. “Sheesh, you haven’t got to push me around like that. I’ll call one of my bodyguards and have them come up here if I have to.”

  “I gave them the evening off since you’ll be with me.”

  “Oh my gosh. The arrogance! How do you manage to fit that big head of yours into a football helmet? I’m surprised your brain doesn’t explode out of the sides.”

  I laugh at the visual and prod her along.

  She looks so hot in her dress, and now that I know she’s healed up, I don’t feel so guilty about the plans I have for us.

  We reach a door at the end of the hallway and I push it open. It’s Jay’s lounge, where a group of us usually gathers to watch basketball and golf. It has sweeping floor-to-ceiling windows covering the side wall, showcasing an expansive view of New York City.

  Candace gasps. “Oh, wow. You weren’t kidding about the view! Look at it.”

  “Yeah, it’s great,” I say, sounding bored as I turn her away from the windows so she’s facing me instead of them.

  “What are you doing?” she asks hurriedly. “Don’t kick the door shut!”

  Too late.

  “Are you still mad at me?” I ask, tightening my hold on her waist as I start to walk us backward.

  “What?” Her blue eyes widen in alarm. “Yes! Of course.”

  She looks panicky, like she’s trying to figure out some way to bolt.

  I bend down and kiss her cheek, gathering her close. “Are you still mad at me?” I ask again, this time quietly against the shell of her ear.

  “I suppose…yes…”

  Her voice has turned soft and less convincing.

  I move lower, letting my mouth fall to the sensitive skin at the base of her neck, right beside the thin strap holding up her dress. Then I kiss her there before repeating my question.

  “I… Maybe we could talk it over…” she answers.

  “I don’t feel like talking.”

  We have ten minutes, and I haven’t touched her in a week. I’m going crazy. Pretty soon I’ll be ordering her personalized doormats and calling her Pookie.

  Her hands slide up over my arms and she grips my shoulders. “I suppose I could find it in my heart to forgive you,” she says, her gaze heavy on my lips.

  She wants me to kiss her.

  I think she’s dying for it as much as I am.

  “And you’ll consider moving in with me,” I add, lowering my head.

  “Maybe,” she says, pressing up on her tiptoes to kiss me before I can kiss her.

  She doesn’t kiss like she’s still harboring any ill will toward me. She kisses me hard and presses her small body up against mine like she wants to fuse us together. I gather her dress in my hands and let it slide up around her waist so I have better access to her body. My hands drift down, over her butt, and I squeeze. She lets out a little squeal, and I smile against her lips.

  We don’t waste any time. Our mouths go right back together, and I deepen the kiss, demanding she let me sweep my tongue against hers. She rubs her body against me, and I’m hard. Of course I’m hard. I’ve been desperate for her all week, and now here she is, pliant in my hands, ripe for the taking.

  She groans impatiently then quickly shoves away from me, breaking the kiss.

  She presses the back of her hand up to her mouth and looks at me with a wild, unreadable expression.

  “I absolutely cannot stay for dinner.”

  I frown. “What?”

  “Yeah. I just can’t. I can’t sit across from you at the table for an ho
ur and pretend I’m not imagining you totally naked, on top of me. And worse! I’ll have to listen to those two drone on.” She points to the door. “Take me back to your place so we can have proper sex.”

  “We can’t just leave.”

  I say it just so it gets said, though I don’t really mean it. I want to leave as much as she does.

  “Like hell we can’t. C’mon, let’s go. Either you take me to your flat or we’re having sex on Jay’s sofa while they listen, and if I were him, I know which one I’d prefer.”

  Then she scurries over, yanks my hand, and starts to drag me back into the hall. She’s pretty strong when she puts her mind to it.

  “Hey, listen gang,” she says once we’re back in the kitchen. “Something’s come up and we’ve got to go actually.”

  “Are you serious?! We cooked all this food,” Kat protests, throwing her hands up in the air.

  “Yes, sorry about that. Logan’s got the runs. He didn’t want me telling everybody, but well, there you have it. Don’t want him soiling his knickers at the dinner table, now do we? We’ll just take a few of these rolls for the road—they smell great. Good job, both of you. Jay, lovely place you have here. Love all the pink. We’ll be seeing you soon!”

  “You’re lying!” Kat shouts as we hurry to leave.

  “Am not! Logan will shove down his trousers and show you if you insist!”

  Jesus. This girl will be the end of me.

  “Quick, grab my purse there, Logan,” Candace says before forcing us to take off toward the door. She can’t get it herself because her arms are overloaded with rolls. “Bye now!” she shouts to them. “See you both soon!”

  We don’t stop even once we’re out the door. We’re both laughing, and it only gets worse when Candace points down to the doormat. Sure enough, it reads “Welcome to Kat and Jay’s love nest!”

  It sends her over the edge, laughing so hard she has tears in her eyes. I watch her, totally enamored, wondering what I did before she came into my life. Was I even alive?

  I kiss her there in the hall, squashing her up against the wall so the rolls flatten out between us. She moans that they’re ruined, but I don’t care. I have to kiss her. I have to tell her I love her. Here in this hallway.

  She blinks up at me totally stunned after I say it.

  “What have you just said?!” She sounds a little hysterical.

  “I love you,” I repeat, holding her gaze.

  “Oh my god!” She throws a roll at me so it bounces off my head and lands with a dull thud on the floor. “You’ve just said it now—here, of all places?! I’ve got mascara running down my cheeks from laughing so hard.”

  “Yes, well, you’re always laughing. It would be hard to find a time to tell you when you’re being serious,” I say, yanking her back toward me. “But that’s just it—it’s part of the reason I can’t get you out of my head. You’re crazy,” I say, wiping her cheeks. “And I love you.”

  “Right.” She pats my chest. “Well, sorry you’re so in love with me! Wish I could say the same, but I have loads of boys running after me and I—”

  “Candace, say it.”

  “I really can’t.”

  “Yes you can.”

  One of Jay’s neighbors walks out of their apartment, an old woman with a scarf tied around her head and a yappy little dog at her feet.

  “No canoodling in the halls!” she chides us as she passes to head for the stairs nearby.

  Once she’s gone, Candace locks eyes with me again and presses her lips together to keep from laughing.

  “It’s fine if you can’t say it,” I say, turning away and walking off without her.

  “Oh no you don’t!” Another roll hits me square in the back. She’s got a pretty good arm. “No reverse psychology here, mister! I love you, do you hear me?! I love you!”

  “Hey! Keep it down out there!” another neighbor shouts.

  Candace runs and takes my hand so we can hurry off to the elevator together.

  I make her say it again before I kiss her against the back wall as the elevator slides down to ground level.

  “I can’t believe you want me to say it again,” she teases. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m totally mad about you! You’re so handsome and sweet and not at all how a professional foosball player should be.”

  “Football player,” I correct.

  “What’s the difference?” she asks before rising up and pressing her mouth to mine.

  Epilogue

  Candace

  “SACK HIM, YOU BLITHERING IDIOTS! DO SOMETHING!”

  Our defense is asleep. They have to be. That’s the only reason Green Bay’s quarterback manages to complete a twenty-yard pass, which is caught far too close to the end zone. I shout in anger and try not to resort to any more curse words. I’ve already met my yearly quota.

  Then I look back at Yasmine and Kat, hoping to get some assistance or at least see they’re as upset by the game’s turn of events as I am, but the two of them are sitting on their arses, munching away on all the food provided in our private suite at the stadium, completely unbothered that we’re close to letting Green Bay score and take the lead.

  “Aren’t you two going to get up and help me?!”

  “Help with what? You shouting your head off won’t change anything. Just tell your fiancé to start throwing some touchdowns. How about that?” Kat says, sucking the mustard off her fingers. This is her second hot dog of the quarter.

  “Right. Some help you two are.”

  “I can’t get up. What do you want me to do? The doctor says shouting is bad for the baby. You shouldn’t be shouting either. I’m sure she’s in my belly listening and thinking her auntie is a loon.”

  Right. Kat is knocked up. She’s only about four months along, but the way she whinges on, you’d think she was 43 1/2 months pregnant.

  She’s over there with her feet elevated and a heating pad stuffed behind her lower back. Oh good grief. She doesn’t even have a proper bump yet!

  I shouldn’t have been so surprised that she got herself into this position. It’s just like her. She and Jay have been married for a while. Oh yes, married. They flew to Vegas the night after we bailed on their dinner party and tied the knot. Kid you not. We thought they were insane, and well, they are, but oddly enough, it seems to be working. They still refer to each other as Sweetums and Pookie, and I still gag every time I hear it. Yasmine and Marcus are together still too, though they’ve had a rocky few months. They’re both so bloody dramatic. They love the back and forth and the fighting, and I swear their relationship changes with the lunar cycle. Oh, full moon—guess they’re off again. This time seems to be it, though. I know from Logan that Marcus is totally smitten with her and has bought a ring and everything. I bet they’ll be engaged by this time next year, just in time for my wedding.

  WEDDING.

  YES! I’ve managed to convince Logan to spend eternity with me. Ha ha ha. Joke’s on him!

  I’ve been planning the wedding for a few weeks already, and it will be small and tasteful and modest. JOKING. Oh my god. No. I’m only planning on getting married once, so we’re blowing it out of the water. We’re heading to the Caribbean, and we want all our friends and family there, loads of food, a huge band, lots of cake, fireworks, dancing until we’ve all got feet covered in blisters—you get the idea.

  I glance down at my ring and smile. Even it’s totally ridiculous, but that’s Logan’s fault. After five months together, he surprised me one evening back at our flat.

  I’d just arrived home from work. I quit my job at District and I don’t help Kat clean very often either, but I love my work at The Day School, even if I am knackered at the end of every day.

  Anyway, I strolled in, set my purse down, and noticed a trail of rose petals leading me into the kitchen. Then, CANDLES—so many I think Logan might have bought out the entire city’s stock. I’m surprised the fire sprinklers weren’t going off.

  He was standing in the middle of them with the
ring in his hand, as handsome as ever.

  “Marry me?” he asked.

  “Oh my” is all I managed before I started crying, real big sobby tears so that I had to grab for a dish towel and wipe away the snot. Fortunately, he got the gist of my reply. He came toward me, gathered me up in his arms, and then slipped the ring on my finger. I haven’t taken it off since.

  It’s obscenely sparkly and could knock out someone’s eye if I’m not careful…but well…I love it, of course.

  “Would you fetch me another little shrimp cocktail?” Kat asks me.

  “Get it yourself!” I groan, turning back to the game. There’re only a few minutes left in the fourth quarter. New York is up by six, which is a horrible spot to be in because if Green Bay manages a touchdown, we’re screwed!

  “I can’t get up. You’ll have to help me.”

  “You’re not that pregnant.”

  “I’ll have you know that back in the day, women were basically put on bedrest for their entire pregnancy.”

  “Yes, well, nowadays, they compete in the Olympics. I don’t see your point.”

  “Fine! I’ll get it myself, but I’m not naming the baby after you anymore.”

  “You were never planning to name her after me,” I point out, knowing full well they’ve decided to call her Cassie, after Jay’s mum.

  “Well…you don’t get the middle name now either!”

  I’m too busy watching the game to care about her threats. Green Bay is on their fourth down. They’re going for a field goal. OR maybe they’re tricking us into thinking they’re going for a field goal and they’re really going to try to run the ball in for a touchdown. Oh my god, they’re putting in their special teams.

  “BLOCK THEM,” I scream.

  Apparently, they hear me, because they don’t let Green Bay score, and then the game is over. WE WON! It’s just a regular season game, nothing to go crazy about, but I’m still hopping around with glee. Not only do I like winning, Logan likes winning too. I can’t stand when he comes home all down and upset after a hard-lost game.

  Now, we’ll have a lovely weekend together! We’ll be celebrating. Oh yes! That reminds me.

  “Right, well, I’m off, you two,” I say, grabbing my purse and jumper. “Yasmine, roll Kat out of here if she can’t manage to walk anymore.”