That’s my woman. She knows how to get along with anyone—she’s outgoing, friendly and unafraid.
But the real way I can tell it’s Ellie is the outfit. She’s wearing a cheerleader costume. A tiny, pleated skirt, a cute sweater, and a pair of pom-poms.
Well, later we have to role play naughty cheerleader and dirty football player.
I wave to her, then blow her a kiss.
When the game ends, I kiss her again, in the stands.
Then in the corridor.
Then at home, where she’s the naughtiest cheerleader there ever is.
And to think I was determined to focus only on football this season. But I like playing ball even better when I have Ellie to come home to.
EPILOGUE
A Month or So Later
Ellie
One night in the fall, when Brooke’s out of town for work, I meet Rachel and Maddox for dinner and ping-pong. It’s the night of theFabio’s Listpremiere. We don’t watch it. I don’t want to watch it.
It’s part of my past, and I’m perfectly fine with that. I did, however, already see my interview. The producer sent me an advance clip.
It was short and simple, and the segment was titledMoving On. “I credit my friends with helping me. They were there for me, and they helped me to see the signs. I’m grateful for them, and now I’ve fully moved on. I’m with a great guy,” I’d said.
“What’s he like?” the producer asked off camera.
“He’s the ultimate good guy,” I said with a smile.
Gabe is a good one, through and through. But at night, he’s very, very bad. And that’s just the way I like it.
I head to the ping-pong table and catch up with my friends, where Maddox tells us the latest on his love life.
Well, not everything. He’s a private guy. But suffice to say, I’m eager for any details he’ll share.
* * *
I settle onto my couch with my guy and my dog and a bowl of popcorn. It’s been months and months of hard work and long hours and chewed nails, but it’s finally time.
It’s premiere night forThe Dating Games.
The opening credits roll and whenCreated by Ellie Snowscrolls across the screen, Gabe hoots and hollers.
“That’s my woman,” he says, then smacks a kiss onto my cheek.
I’m lit up like fireworks as the show begins. It’s surreal watching it on screen, knowing others are watching it too.
The next day, I find out just how many.
I believe the proper measurement isa fuck ton.
Enough that once the ten-episode season ends a little later, Webflix renews it.
But I’m not the only one having a good fall. In December, I round up my friends to head to the Mercenaries stadium, where we watch my boyfriend catch two touchdowns and nail a playoff spot.
He’s celebrating on the field, but then he runs over to the sidelines, hoists me over the stands and onto the field, and kisses me madly.