Something More | Discontinued

[ 5 ] Hate The Players, Not The Game

© 2018 Shay Spencer. All rights reserved.

Something More

[ Chapter 5 ] Hate The Players, Not The Game

. . . . .

Hayden

.

For some unknown reason, Jay had picked the number 49 as his jersey number and was proudly sticking with it. He was practically asking to get his ass kicked by his old San Fran teammates.

Or quite literally any professional football player for that matter.

"We've got the top box upstairs," Elias muttered to himself as he pawed through the wristbands that currently occupied his attention.

Wren held out her left wrist, the right assisting in holding an ungodly amount of popcorn she had probably stole from some kid on our way in. Elias obliged, clipping it to her wrist as her tongue darted out of her mouth and skillfully pulled a piece of popcorn into her mouth.

Pregnancy truly was a miracle.

"You sure you need that popcorn?" I tested, my father taking my wrist and absentmindedly clipping the band around it. "I know you're eating for two, but-"

"But nothing," Wren glared my way. "You sure you need that hand, Hayden?"

"I'd like to think it's one of my best features, so yeah, I'd like to keep it."

I could see Scarlett attempting, and failing, to keep her laughter at the situation to herself. With little to no time to waste, Angel Blaine was already in the process of scolding her nearly thirty-year-old daughter for her un-ladylike behavior.

It seemed as though nothing had changed over the last five years. It didn't take staying in the country to catch on to that.

The five of us filed into the elevator, somehow being squashed into the back as about a million sweaty fans piled in after us. Elias looked less than thrilled as he guarded his future daughter in law, and Angel not so subtlety pinched her nose to avoid the smell.

I myself had somehow been cornered by a fairly large man, one that I knew I'd lose a fight to if I dared him to take a step back. Scarlett was pressed against my chest, Angel being too distracted to notice our predicament. Warily, I placed my hands on either side of waist to keep us steady during the shaky ride. The blush that put the color back to her cheeks made my heart somehow lurch forward. She made me way too mushy, and honestly, I didn't mind it.

The routey fans spilled out after the two minute mark, making my father breath a sigh in relief. Angel fell back against the wall, her eyes closing before the elevator began it's rise to the box seats that overlooked the whole stadium.

"I think one of those guys took my popcorn," Wren pouted, now lacking her latest craving. This time, Angel didn't even try to stop Scarlett, or me, from laughing. She ended up giggling, and I do mean giggling, along with us. It was hard not to.

"Are you sure?" I said, getting another glare from Wren.

"Unless you took it," she narrowed her eyes at me. "Sucks to be them. I licked like half the bag."

"There should be plenty of food in the box when we arrive, dear," Elias reassured before patting her shoulder. It didn't stop Wren's lower lip from pouting out, though.

The opening of the elevator door left us to meet the small crowd that was forming in our box. I could see Scarlett and Wren visibly stiffed at the sight of one of our least favorite New Yorkers.