30. Drew

CHAPTER 30

DREW

"Game's on," Drew said to Mac, pointing to the TV above the diner counter. "Turn up the volume."

Mac gave Drew the side-eye, then glanced around before he lifted the remote and clicked the volume up a couple of notches. With the Troopers playing a one o'clock game, the diner was only half-full since most people either stayed home, went to a friend's house, or patronized the local bars with their Sunday Ticket ginormous televisions showing every game around the country.

"I got us some wings and nachos," Ken Connor, Mac's father, said, carrying out two platters from the kitchen and placing them in front of Drew as he sat beside him.

Mac dropped a handful of napkins and wet wipes on the counter before everyone paused to watch the kickoff. Florida's kick into the end zone resulted in a touchback, starting the Troopers' offense on their own thirty-yard line. Since the Troopers had the ball first, Lee was on the sideline.

During the first half, Mac wandered the diner, refilling coffee cups, and doing the weekly maintenance, all while keeping one eye on the TV. Periodically, he asked questions about the game or what had happened, and Drew was happy to answer when he could, often looking to Ken for help or clarification. Drew felt pumped that he'd already learned so much about football since meeting Lee.

Half-time was a flurry for the diner, collecting bills, cleaning tables from those people who'd stayed to watch the first half, and seating the new arrivals who wanted to see the second half. Drew popped off his stool and grabbed the coffee pots, wandering the aisles of tables, offering refills. Mac leaned in at one point and thanked him, kissing his cheek and winking.

Ken's eyes were saucers, staring at Drew when he retook his seat for the second-half kickoff. He didn't want to miss it since Lee would be starting. He glanced from the screen to Ken, finding him still staring. "What?"

"My son kissed your cheek." His gaze narrowed. "Ya'll been withholding pertinent information. Your momma's gonna get a beating," he teased. "I'd been wondering why she was gloating."

"With all due respect, sir, we've been keeping it on the down-low."

Ken growled. "You know I hate it when you call me sir. Or Senior. Surrounded by incorrigible children." He grunted as he waved off anything Drew would have said before pointing to the television. "Game."

Dutifully, Drew turned to watch. Troopers' kicker, Ryeland Lenhart, booted a perfect doozy to Florida's five. The Troopers' special team surrounded the kickoff returner and brought him down at the sixteen-yard line. It wasn't until the pile cleared that the announcer said, "Tackle made by Lee Matters."

Drew and Mac whooped. Fierce pride filled Drew's chest for Lee. He'd feared their radio silence since last week would affect Lee's playing, but he seemed to have recovered from when his feet had decided to dance without telling him during Wednesday's practice. Oh yeah, he'd heard all about the face-plant from Cutter. He'd then had to hold himself back from going to check on Lee. Cutter—the jerk—had laughed at him, knowing exactly what Drew wanted to do, and had even offered to let him go. When he refused, he then had to tell Cutter why, which led to a lot of emotional baggage being spewed about Mac and Lee over their shared lunch break.

Heading into the fourth quarter, the Troopers were up 10-3, with both teams' defenses holding the opposition to very few yards. Addy and his offense earned every single point of that touchdown, working their way down the field, yard by yard, with the help of two holding penalties on the defense.

Before the game resumed after the Troopers' post-TD kickoff, the cameraman panned along the Troopers' sideline. Drew spotted Lee standing idly by the bench, watching Addy and Cal, who stood very close together, talking, each with a hand on the other's shoulder. The expression on Lee's face… Wistful? Yearning?

A quiet curse drew his attention. Mac stared at the screen, seemingly reading the same thing on Lee's face that Drew had. He looked at Drew, his mouth set in a tight line. "If they lose, I want to be there tonight."

Drew nodded. Yeah, they'd discussed showing up at Lee's immediately after his return or waiting until tomorrow. He had the team's itinerary, so he knew what time the plane would land. But seeing Lee's expression, his feelings written so clearly across his face… "I think we should go, regardless."

"Seriously, I am going to beat your momma for not telling me."

"What's that, Kenzie?" Momma Connor put her arms around her husband and kissed his cheek. "Beat me?" She chuckled. "Well, I guess you can try."

"You should have told me about these two. And that one." He stabbed a finger at the TV.

"They're working things out. I didn't want to jinx it."

Drew didn't want to look away from the on-screen play—a run by Florida that only netted them two yards—but something in what she said set off alarms in his brain. The same must have happened to Mac because he asked, "How do you know that? Drew and I haven't said anything to anyone."

"Leslie and Beth popped in Monday while Lee was at practice. We had a very nice conversation about you boys."

Drew groaned. Mac's mouth dropped open. "Momma! How could you? This is private."

"We understood that, which is why I didn't say anything to your father or sister." She sighed dramatically. "It's been really hard not spilling the tea."

Drew slapped both of his hands to his face. Mac's momma was ridiculous, but he loved her anyway. "Spilling the tea? Who taught you that?"

"Leslie. Those East Coast ladies know the most wonderful slang. She said it's because she hires a lot of college students, so she had to learn to speak their language. Like it's different from ours… pfft. " Momma Connor rolled her eyes. "Now, how are we doing? Are we winning?"

Drew's gaze snapped back to the game as Ken filled her in. The Troopers were still in the lead, but somehow when he'd looked away, Florida had advanced the ball past the fifty-yard line. The broadcast team had the answer: a fifty-five-yard bomb, and the replay showed Lee missing the tackle and ending with Anders running the receiver out of bounds.

"Ouch," he muttered. The cameras picked out the jubilant receiver on the Florida sideline. Meanwhile, on the Troopers' side, Lee looked furious. Drew noticed Addy and Cal trying to calm him down, but Lee motioned them off, ducking his head and then dropping into a crouch. Drew could almost feel the aggravation and self-deprecation rolling off of Lee.

"Come on, baby. Pull it together. Your team needs you," Drew whispered as Mac sidled closer to him. Then closer still, until they were touching, each pulling strength from the other and mentally sending it through the TV to Lee.

The view switched back to the play in progress. Florida advanced another 8 yards on a solid run through a hole in the defense. Yowie appeared to be rallying the linemen for the next play. Lee was back on the field, looking determined. He ran alongside the receiver, but the throw ended up being a dump pass that gained Florida five yards and a first down and within easy field goal range.

"Defense, come on defense," Ken chanted. Drew prayed along with him as he stared at the screen.

Florida lined up in a T-formation usually used for a running play, but sometimes the offensive coaches use it for a trick play. The QB hiked the ball, and the Trooper's defense rushed in as the ball was passed hand to hand and then thrown long. Lee looked like he was in the perfect position for another pass-block or interception.

Drew held his breath as Mac grabbed his hand, pressing their bodies tighter together. The ball seemed to hang, and when it dropped, both Lee and the receiver jumped for it. Both came down in the end zone in a tangle of limbs. Players circled them, making it impossible to see who had the ball. Even the announcers weren't sure, both of them speculating since the replay hadn't come on yet.

Finally, the referee shoved his hands in the air. Drew groaned. Ken cursed. Touchdown, Florida. With the kick for the extra point sailing through the uprights, the game was tied, 10-10.

There was still time left in the game, but the air seemed to go out of the Troopers. They got a single first down, then went four-and-out before bringing in Garrett to punt. He nicely placed the ball at Florida's eighteen-yard line, but the Troopers defensive line couldn't seem to shut down the run. Five yards, then eight, then another 6. Play after play, interspersed with a couple of short passes meant Lee—a free safety used to play deep in the zone—was kept on the field but wasn't effective at stopping Florida's forward progress.

"Fucking Swiss cheese, this defense." Ken slammed a hand down on the counter. "Come on, Troopers. Stop 'em."

The minutes ticked by with Florida running the clock down to the two-minute warning. Finally, the defense held, but after taking another minute off the clock, Florida settled for a field goal, putting them ahead 13-10. Another kickoff and touchback placed the ball on the Troopers' twenty-five.

Mac gave up trying to be helpful around the diner. He sat next to Drew. "Do you think they can score in under a minute?"

Drew shrugged. "I don't know. Ken?"

He, too, shrugged. "I've seen New England and other teams do the impossible, but they usually have time-outs to work with. The Troopers don't have any left, so if they don't get out of bounds, the clock keeps running."

Ken rubbed his chin. "If Kelly can connect with Foster and he can step out, we might get into field goal range."

Drew nodded, but Mac nudged him. "Who's he talking about?"

"Kelly is Addison Kelly—Addy—our quarterback, and Foster is Logan Foster—who you know as Gunner. He's our best wide receiver. Your dad doesn't know their team nicknames, which is how you know them from me and Lee."

"Got it. Thanks." Mac pressed another kiss to Drew's cheek and put his arms around him. "Go Addy! Go Gunner!" he whisper-cheered into Drew's ear.

Drew chuckled, covering Mac's hands with his own and squeezing them as he held on. Back and forth, they whispered pleas and cheers for the Troopers.

"Down with the defense."

"Let's go, Troopers."

"Hoo-rah!" they cheered louder when a play gained the team yardage.

With only a few seconds left on the clock, and they were still too far for a field goal, Addy attempted a bomb for the end zone. The throw, unfortunately, went long, sailing out the back of the end zone, uncatchable. The referee blew his whistle. Game over.

Drew and Mac stared at the TV, hoping to catch another glimpse of Lee. They did, fleeting though it was when the camera panned across the players heading into the tunnel.

Mac stood up. "He gets back around ten, right?"

Drew nodded. "Yeah. I'll keep an eye on the team chat for when they land. Are you staying here?"

Mac looked around as several patrons started gathering their belongings and heading out the door. "I think so. It usually gets busy in here for a few hours after the games. People want real food instead of beer and bar garbage. Then I'll want to go home and shower before we see Lee. Pick me up there?"

"You got it." Drew tugged Mac closer. "I'm going to kiss you, so if you don't want it, tell me now."

Mac grinned. "I want it." He leaned right into Drew and kissed him hard, even adding a tickle of his tongue to Drew's lips before pulling back.

Drew growled as he let Mac go. "I'll see you later."

"Not if I see you first." Mac cackled as he headed into the back, and Drew did what he always did: rolled his eyes, smiled, and watched that fine ass strut away.