Michael nods as well, shaking my hand. “Michael. Good to meet you too.”
“Colt Avery,” Mr. Hendricks greets me warmly. He takes my hand after Michael. “Welcome to our house.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“No, not sir. Blake. Call me Blake.” He lets me go, immediately crossing his arms over his barrel chest. “How are you feeling, son? How’s the knee?”
“Better than ever,” I lie, feeling a sting in the back of my throat as I do. “I’m cleared to be on the field for the Chiefs on Saturday.”
“It had to be hard to sit out the last couple games,” he replies sympathetically.
“It was brutal, yeah. Especially with the Chargers game being so tight.”
“It was a nail biter. We were all on the edge of our seats.”
I grin at Lilly. “All of you?”
Blake chuckles, draping his arm over Lilly’s shoulder and shaking her gently. “Even Lilly, if you can believe it. I’ve spent years trying to make a football fan out of her and you manage it in a month.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m a fan,” she cautions us.
“I wouldn’t either,” Michael agrees. “Last week you asked me what an onside kick is.”
“And I still don’t get it.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Do you want to get it?”
“Do you want to get what the proofing drawer is for, or are you happy just to know that it exists and leave it at that?”
“Let’s leave it at that.”
She smiles. “My thoughts exactly.”
“It was good to see Tyus Anthony back in last week’s game,” Blake comments.
Inside I feel my smile faltering but I maintain it on the surface. It feels like I’m telling another lie. “It was. The team needed him and he was more restless than I was on the sidelines.”
The truth is he was mad. He was also getting headaches, so they benched him. Concussions aren’t something the athletic trainers play with, and this was Tyus’ second one this year. He could be mad all he wanted, there was no way he was getting out on the field again one game after taking that hit.
“Lilly, can you help me in the kitchen with the last of lunch?” Linda asks her. “Your dad and brother can take Colt into the living room to watch the game.”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll be right in.” Lilly looks to me as her family leaves us alone in the dining room. “Do you want a beer?”
“Definitely. Thanks. Are they in the kitchen?”
“I’ll get it for you. Get to the living room. Didn’t you hear? The game is on.”
I smirk at her. “Who’s playing?”
She laughs shortly. “Not the Kodiaks. That’s all I know.”
“And here I thought you were actually starting to follow football.”
“I was shining you on. It was all part of the seduction.”
I grin down at her, stepping closer. “It worked.”
Lilly steps up on her toes to kiss me once quickly. When she drops back down she’s smiling. I’m glad to see how easy she is all of the sudden. Like the world didn’t blow up in our faces when we knocked on the door and she’s breathing again. Smiling again. “I’ll get you that beer, then you get your ass into the living room.”
“Deal.”
When I get to the living room Blake turns to smile at me. He’s parked in an armchair. A nice one. My mom would hate it.
“Is it entertaining or boring for you to watch other teams play like this?” he asks.
I sink down onto the couch opposite Michael, throwing my arm over the back. “Hard to know who to root for, that’s for sure. After that loss on Thanksgiving the Jets are pretty dead to me, but if the Chargers win they could knock us out of the running for the Wild Card.”
“So who are you going to root for?” Michael asks curiously.
I grin crookedly. “I want that ring more than I want revenge. I’m going Jets.”
“Good man,” Blake agrees with an appreciative nod. “Victory over vengeance. That’s the way to play.”
He likes me. They always do. If I’m not competition, men warm up to me fast. I’m a good hang, what can I say?
This feels good, though. Better than it usually would. His words, his attitude toward me; it matters to me in a way that it never has before. I haven’t met a girl’s dad since high school when I took Leslie Carter to the prom, and that was only because my mom told me I had to.
“I’m not raising a punk,” she informed me, waving to me as I hurried out the door with a corsage in one hand and her car keys in the other. “Now try not to get arrested and don’t you dare get anyone pregnant.”
Lilly’s hand comes down softly on my shoulder, a cold beer pressing into the palm of my hand resting on the back of the couch. I lean my head back to look up at her but she’s not looking at me. She’s looking at her dad. A small, sad smile on her lips.
I reach up to squeeze her hand on my shoulder. She sweeps her eyes to mine. “Today is a good day, Lilly,” I tell her quietly.
She leans down to kiss my forehead, her eyes holding onto her melancholy. “I think you’re right.”