27. The Commercials Are the Best Part

THE COMMERCIALS ARE THE BEST PART

EVERETT

M y heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. Two minutes left on the clock, we were down by six, and it was fourth and two. We certainly weren't going to turn it over. The Presidents' defense had been relentless all night, but this was it. We were not going to lose this fucking game. Do or die.

I looked over at Chris in the huddle, his eyes blazing with determination. "Alright, boys," he said, his voice steady despite the pressure. "We're running our tight end tush push, left on forty-seven. You get me that first down, Ev. Ready?"

We all nodded, breaking the huddle. As I lined up, I could hear Declan shouting encouragement from the sidelines. "You got this, boys. Let's go."

The ball snapped, and Chris surged forward like he was going to try to rush through the line, but I hooked and he handed it off to me. The two guys behind me and Chris literally shoved my ass up and over the Presidents' linebackers. But damn, they were big sons of guns, and I wasn't going to make it. There was only one option.

I stepped on some guys back and leapt toward that thirty-yard line.

For a moment, I was airborne, the ball secure in my hands, my body stretched out over the Presidents' defensive line. A hand grabbed at my ankle, but it was too late. I crashed to the ground, the impact knocking the wind out of me, but the ball was still clutched tight to my chest.

First down.

We were still in the game. The stadium erupted and hands grabbed me, pulling me to my feet. Chris was there, slapping my helmet. He yelled over the noise, "That's what I'm talking about."

But there was no time to celebrate. The clock was still ticking.

We hurried to the line, Chris calling out a good old-fashioned hitch and go play. I knew my role, block for Chris so he could throw it to Hayes who was going to run the hell out of that ball when he caught it. As the ball snapped, I charged forward, engaging the cornerback. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Hayes streaking down the sideline. Chris gave a good fake pump, catching the cornerback's attention, but I held him at bay. Then Chris threw a beautiful pass into the air.

The ball arced, a perfect spiral headed down the line. Hayes leapt, snatching it out of the air over the outstretched arms of two of the Presidents. He landed and took off, his legs pumping furiously.

I disengaged from my block and sprinted after him. A linebacker was closing in, but I threw myself in his path, feeling the impact rattle my bones as Hayes zoomed past.

The roar of the crowd was deafening as Hayes crossed into the end zone. Touchdown. We'd tied it up.

But we weren't done yet. Dion Prince, our kicker, and the special team jogged onto the field for the extra point. The stadium fell eerily quiet as he lined up the kick. This was it. Everything came down to this one moment.

The snap was clean. The hold was perfect. Dion's foot connected with a solid thud.

The ball sailed through the air, curving slightly to the left. For a heart-stopping moment, I thought it might go wide. But it snuck just inside the upright.

Good for one god blessed extra point.

The stadium exploded. We'd done it. We'd won the Bowl.

The next few minutes were a blur of pure, unadulterated joy. I found myself in the middle of a massive group hug with my teammates, all of us yelling incoherently. Water and green sports drink rained down on us, courtesy of the rookies, and I couldn't stop grinning even as the icy liquid drenched me.

"Hell yeah," Chris shouted in my ear, his arm around my shoulders. "We fucking did it."

I could only nod, too overcome with emotion to form words. This was ring number two for Chris and Declan and the first for me and Hayes. It's what we'd all dreamed of since we were kids throwing a football around in the backyard. And now, here we were, champions.

That initial frenzy began to die down, and friends, family, and fans filled the field. I scanned the crowd, looking for one face in particular, my girl. Where was Penelope? I needed to see her, to share this moment with her. She was the only thing that would make this night even better, and I couldn't imagine celebrating without her.

Finally, I spotted her. Penelope and Kelsey surrounded by Kels's security were making their way onto the field with Jules, Trixie, Willa, and my dad and brothers. I broke away from the cameras in my face and ran towards my woman.

"Pen," I shouted, scooping her up in my arms and spinning her around. She laughed, her arms wrapping tightly around my neck.

"You did it, Ev." she exclaimed, her eyes shining with tears of happiness. "I'm so happy for you. That was one of the coolest things I've ever seen."

I set her down gently, cupping her face in my hands, and kissed her. Cameras flashed around us, someone whistled, and I didn't care one bit. This was the cherry on top of my football sundae, and it was the best part.

When I broke the kiss, we were engulfed in a massive family hug. My dad gathered us all around him.

"Boys," he said, his voice gruff with emotion as he pulled Chris, Declan, Hayes, and me into a tight embrace. "I'm real fucking proud of the way you played today. Your mom would have enjoyed the hell out of this game."

My throat went tight and tingly at his words. She would have, I knew. Not just because of the game, but because of everything else we'd accomplished today too.

"Hey, Kingmans, Declan, Everett," A reporter approached us, her cameraman in tow. "Can we get a quick word about the KnightWear and Swoosh commercials? They're already generating a lot of buzz online."

Declan and I exchanged a look. We'd hoped this was coming, and we knew we'd likely be getting extra media attention in part because of Kelsey's fame, but we also wanted to be sure we could direct the discourse if it started out on the field instead of at the after game press conference. Our girls were vulnerable, and no way either of us were going to let them take any pot shots at them.

But I'd interacted with this reporter a few times. She knew her shit and didn't cause any. I liked her. "Of course," I said, turning to face the camera. Penelope squeezed my hand supportively.

"The commercial... it means a lot to me," I began, choosing my words carefully. "It's about more than just clothes or even body positivity. It's about honoring my mom's memory and the lessons she taught us about self-love and acceptance."

We all got distracted with a huge commotion up in the stands, near the suites. Some guy was hanging out the windows, yelling and screaming about something. Security guards were struggling to pull him down. Some attention seeking asshole whose team probably just lost. But my stomach dropped when I recognized the figure.

Odin.

He was shouting something that no one but those hard-working security guards were going to be able to hear over the general noise of the stadium. I quickly turned away from the cameras and leaned down to talk to Pen without her answer needing to be on camera. "Did you know he was here?"

She gave me an eyeroll so big she might have sprained her brain. "Yeah. He and the FabFlex people were in the suite next to us, making a ruckus. But your dad took care of it."

Oh, I couldn't wait to hear this story. "Who or what the hell is FlabbyFlex?"

Pen laughed. "Exactly."

More reporters swarmed around us, but with Dec and I blocking, and Hayes and Chris distracting them with their swagger, we pushed our way over to the stage for the presentation of the Tiffany trophy. No one else even cared about some crazed fan up in the stands. All eyes were on us.

Chris riled everyone up with his rousing rendition of the opening bars of that champion song and got the whole team to sing along. He must have been hanging out with Kelsey or something, because I didn't even know he could sing at all.

Hayes was awarded the MVP. Fucking rookie. God, I loved that kid. By the look on her face, so did Willa.

After the on-field celebrations, we were ushered into the press room for the official post-game press conference. The coaching staff sat at the long table with Chris. Hayes and I, and a couple of other guys, stood by to answer the questions they wanted us for too. Declan didn't do press if he could help it.

The questions came fast and furious, mostly focused on the game. Coach fielded most of them, breaking down key plays and praising the team's performance.

"Coach," one reporter asked, "what do you think was the turning point in today's game?"

Coach leaned into his microphone, his voice gruff but proud. "That fourth and two conversion in the final minutes. E. King's leap over the defensive line showed the heart and determination of this team. It set the stage for H. King's game-winning touchdown."

"Chris," another reporter shouted out. "This puts you another ring closer to having a dynasty. Do you credit any of that to having half your family playing on the team with you?"

"We're a little early to be talking dynasties, although I fully intend to get my team that distinction." Hell to the yeah. If we were all lucky, we'd all get to play for the Mustangs for a long time to come. "But, yeah, playing with guys I've known literally my whole life, and who I'd trust with it, is a benefit."

"Coach Shananagan, there're three more Kingman players waiting in the wings playing at DSU. Any plans to add more to the roster?"

The crowd chuckled. It would be pretty hilarious if all seven of us played for the same team.

Coach narrowed his eyes at the ridiculous question and the reporter shrank in front of him. Ooph. Coach did not like stupid questions. "I'll take every fucking Kingman I can get if they keep winning games like these ones do."

The room collectively breathed a sigh of relief. I wondered if that clip would make the rounds on the sports channels. Even more, I wondered if Coach and his staff really were planning on grabbing Flynn and Gryff in the upcoming draft.

"Everett, Declan." That reporter who'd grabbed me out on the field called our names when she was called on next. Dec rolled his eyes at me, but we sat in the two chairs on the end.

"There's been a lot of buzz about the ads featuring you two along with Kelsey Best and her assistant Penelope Quinn. Can you talk about your role in these very body positive ads?"

I glanced at Declan, who shook his head slightly, not wanting to answer. He hated this stuff.

"Actually," I said, leaning towards the microphone, "I haven't seen the Swoosh Ad. We've been a little preoccupied," I added with a chuckle, gesturing to indicate the game we'd just played.

The reporter's eyes lit up. "I have it right here if you'd like to see it."

She held up her phone, the screen already queued to the ad. I nodded, and she passed her phone to an assistant who brought it to us. Declan sat back, obviously having seen it, since it was his sponsorship and he was in the ad, while I hunched over the small screen, aware of the room's anticipation.

As Kelsey's voice filled the air and images flashed across the screen, a lump formed in my throat. People of all shapes and sizes making heart shapes with their hands, and then there we were—me, my brothers, even my dad. The power of Kelsey's lyrics hit me like a tackle.

When it ended, there was a moment of stunned silence. I blinked rapidly, trying to process what I'd just seen.

"Wow," I finally managed, my voice rough with emotion. "That was... incredible."

The reporter who had shown us the ad leaned forward. "What are your thoughts on the message of the ad, especially with how it contrasts with FabFlex's?"

I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. "I haven't seen their ad or even heard of FlabFlex, so I can't speak to that, but what Swoosh and KnightWear have done with these ads is powerful and necessary."

I wished Pen was here to help me express just how important this was, not just to me, but to her and everyone who'd been impacted by her journey. She'd started a revolution, and I wasn't sure she even knew it. "For too long, we've let others' expectations dictate what's beautiful or worthy. This ad and the women behind it, Kelsey, Penelope, and so many others, they're changing that narrative. They're showing that true strength comes from loving yourself exactly as you are."

Declan nodded in agreement and shocked the shit out of all of us by speaking into the microphone. "It's not just about athletes or celebrities," he added. "It's about everyone. We're hoping to inspire people to embrace themselves, to see their own worth regardless of shape, size, gender, or any other factor."

"And how does this tie in with the KnightWear commercial you were involved in, Everett?" another reporter asked.

"They're two sides of the same coin," I replied. "The KnightWear ad was about honoring my mom's memory and the lessons she taught us about self-love and acceptance. It's about changing the conversation around body image, especially for men, who often don't have these discussions openly. Both ads are pushing for a world where everyone feels valued and represented."

As we continued to field questions, most circling back to the game, I sat there with a tingling all up and down my skin and spine. We'd won the Bowl, yes, but this felt like the start of something even bigger. We were part of a movement that could genuinely change lives.

Finally, the press conference wrapped up, and we were free to go.

As we pushed through the doors of the press room, the sounds of celebration hit us like a wave. The hallway was packed with family, friends, and team staff, all eager to continue the festivities.

Penelope was standing with Kelsey, Jules, and Trixie, her eyes lighting up as she spotted us. I made my way over, unable to keep the grin off my face.

"Hey, champ," Penelope said, wrapping her arms around me. "Ready to really celebrate?"

Before I could answer, she was already pulling out her phone, her organizational mode in full swing. "Okay, I've got cars waiting outside to take us all to the venue for the celebration. I rented out the whole place for the team and families. The first round's on me, but don't go too crazy. We've got those morning show interviews tomorrow."

I did not hold back my laugh. Of course Penelope had already planned everything down to the last detail. "Have I told you lately that you're amazing?" I said, pulling her in for a quick kiss.

She grinned and wrapped her arms around my neck. "Hmm. Tell me again later when we're celebrating... in bed."

"I'm more than happy to skip the partying and go straight to that portion of the celebrations."

"Now come on," she shook her head and pulled my hand to lead me down the hallway, "let's get this party started."

As we made our way through the crowd towards the exit, I saw similar scenes playing out around us. Hayes was hand in hand with Willa, both of them grinning from ear to ear. Chris was already regaling a group with a play-by-play of the final touchdown. And there was Dad, looking prouder than I'd ever seen him.

The night was young, we were champions, and we had a bar full of people waiting to celebrate with us. Tonight was for reveling in our victory.