44. Mac

CHAPTER 44

MAC

Mac wasn't much help during the dinner hour since he kept stopping to watch the game on TV. Lee had two knockdowns in the first half, including one that prevented a touchdown, but Colorado was doing a damn fine job moving the ball down the field at the beginning of the fourth quarter.

The Troopers were up three at the moment, but, according to his father, if Colorado burned up the clock and then scored, they wouldn't have much time left to try to win. He wished they hadn't let Drew stay on the sidelines and observe. Mac needed a hug and some hand-holding for these damn jitters. Maybe some alcohol to calm his nerves…This was one of those times he wished they'd gotten a liquor license. Patrons could BYOB… Why hadn't he thought of that?

The game announcers were droning on about either team's chances of making the playoffs. Seriously… it was only the third game of the season. Any given Sunday, right? He thought he had that right… Mac bemoaned his lack of football knowledge. Colorado ran the ball and got a couple of yards, and the clock kept ticking down toward zero. They threw a short pass, enough for a first down, and again the clock kept moving.

"Our boy's got it bad, Momma."

"I know, Kenzie. It's adorable."

" Pfft ." Mac's dad huffed. "More like ridiculous."

"Oh, go away with you and your ridiculousness," Momma chided.

"Will both of you be quiet?" Mac growled without turning around. "I'm trying to watch the game."

"We know," Katy groaned. "You've been next to useless since it started. Just sit down already and watch instead of standing in our way."

Mac gasped at his sister's sauciness but also took her at her word. He got a fresh cup of coffee and sat next to Carey at the counter, letting the hustle and bustle of the diner go on around him for the next… ten minutes and twenty-three seconds, or however long the game ended up lasting. In football time, that could be anywhere from fifteen to thirty minutes depending on clock stoppages for penalties, injuries, timeouts, two-minute warnings, and commercial breaks.

Regardless of when it ended, he'd stay there and watch the post-game interviews and then attempt to keep himself busy until Drew and Lee came to pick him up. If they won, they'd head over to the brewery… if they lost, they'd go back to Lee's and cheer him up with lots of kisses, cuddles, stroking, moaning…

"Third down. Looks like they're going to throw it," Carey said, bringing Mac's focus back to the game, where he discovered that the Troopers defensive line had stalled Colorado on the 45-yard line. Eight minutes, twelve seconds, eleven seconds, ten seconds… Lee was deep, hanging around the 25-yard line, his head still, but Mac suspected his eyes never stopped moving.

Colorado hiked the ball, the quarterback backpedaling, shifting, drifting to the right. Austin's defense broke through the offensive line, gunning it for the QB, who drew his arm back, stepped forward, and launched the ball into the air.

Lee was neck and neck with the wide receiver, both of them running full-tilt toward the end zone. The ball came down. When Lee and the Colorado receiver jumped, their arms tangled, the ball falling between them. Mac gasped. On the small screen, he couldn't tell who had the ball when they collapsed in a heap, bodies squirming. The cameras zoomed in, but it was pandemonium as some players leapt into the fray as others pulled off the ones on top.

Both teams were indicating they had possession, but the announcers weren't committing one way or the other. Everyone waited for the ref's signal and when he finally pointed back the way they'd come, every single person in the diner cheered.

Lee popped to his feet, helped up by one of his teammates, and lifted the football into the air. He then ran toward a cameraman and playfully offered the football out, winked, and then snatched it back. Mac clutched his chest, feeling like that wink was meant just for him.

The cameras followed Lee to the sidelines, where he trotted over to Drew and gave him the ball to hold. Drew put his forehead to Lee's helmet, then smacked the side of it before they broke apart. The announcers went crazy, rehashing the video, and a still shot of the three of them from the interview flashed on the screen.

On the sideline, Lee's coaches were congratulating him as he squeezed water into his mouth. Boy, did his guy look good… all disheveled, with that confident grin. Mac wanted to lick him up one side and down the other.

"Yeah, yeah, he looks good. Stop your squirming," Carey muttered, the officer knocking his arm good-naturedly.

Oops. "Sorry." Thankfully, the cameras changed to the on-field action. Addy took the snap and handed the ball off to the running back, who broke through the line and ran another fifteen yards before he was tackled. Six minutes to go…

The Troopers kept the ball inbounds and the clock moving, racking up first down after first down. Colorado had used their last time out, and though the Troopers left five seconds on the clock when their running back, Steven Lynch, scored on a shovel pass from Addy, the game was essentially over. They'd kick off, and if Colorado took a knee, they'd get one play.

Mac put his head down, wiped out from the drop in adrenaline. The Troopers had not only won, but Lee had put them on the path to scoring… again. As patrons filed past on their way out, they patted Mac's back and promised to be in for the next game.

When he groaned, Carey laughed and took over thanking everyone for coming and hoping they had a good meal. Mac rolled his head to the side. "Want a job?"

Nearly two hours later, Mac's phone pinged.

Ten minutes.

Finally. He'd been ready to go for the last hour. After the post-game interviews, he used the mini-shower they had in the office, changed his clothes, and swiped on a fresh layer of deodorant. He hit the bathroom one last time to make sure his hair looked good, and as he walked back to the front, he heard a shout outside.

Glass shattered as a brick crashed through, landing on a table before skidding off onto the floor just in front of Mac. He stared at the brick, barely hearing Carey shout to call 911 as he ran out the door.

What the hell?

"Mac! Don't touch it."

He froze, not even realizing he'd bent to pick it up.

"Oh, shit. You're bleeding."

Who's bleeding? He looked up at Katy, staring at him with her mouth open, and his stomach turned over. Feeling light-headed, he fell on his butt, and then his world turned dark.