A second later, I found myself hauled up against Knox’s side, his arm draped over my shoulder. Our audience was dividing its attention between the play on the field and the drama off it.
I smiled like we were chitchatting about butterflies and the weather.
The brothers glared at each other.
“I was just reminding your girl here that family takes care of family,” Nash said.
“Now you’re done reminding her. Why don’t you get your ass back home and rest the fuck up so you’re in shape to take care of family?”
“I’m enjoying the game. Think I’ll stick around,” Nash said. “Good to see you, Naomi.”
I said nothing and watched him wander over to Liza and my parents. Neither of the Morgan brothers appeared to be in good moods in the mornings.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, tilting my head back to look at Knox.
His gaze was on the field where Nina missed the ball entirely and instead connected with the shins of the opposing player.
“Heard there was a game. Thought I’d swing by.”
His thumb was rubbing lazy circles against my upper arm. I felt a tingling that originated at the site of his touch and traveled through the rest of my body. My grumpy, tattooed sort-of boyfriend had dragged himself out of bed on an early Saturday morning after a closing shift at the bar just to show up for me and Waylay. I wasn’t sure what to do with that information.
“It’s early,” I pointed out.
“Yep.”
“Nash is just worried,” I said, trying to move the conversation along.
“He does that.”
The crowd noise picked up, and the game drew my attention. I felt Knox tense beside me as Waylay intercepted a pass and dribbled down the field.
“Go all the way, Way,” Wraith yelled.
“Keep going, Waylay,” Dad shouted.
“Come on, kid,” Knox said under his breath, his attention riveted on the number six jersey.
My fingers curled into Knox’s shirt as she closed in on the goal.
Just as she reared her leg back to let the ball fly, another player ran into her, and they both dropped to the ground.
There was a collective groan from the fans.
Nina and Chloe pulled Waylay to her feet, and I saw how red her face was.
“Uh-oh.”
“Uh-oh, what?” Knox asked.
“What the shit, ref?” Waylay bellowed.
“Ah, crap,” I whispered.
“Did she just say ‘shit’ to the ref?” Knox asked.
The referee blew the whistle and strode up to Waylay, digging in his front pocket.
I groaned as the yellow card was produced and held up in front of my niece’s mutinous little face.
“She does this every game. It’s like she can’t control her mouth,” I groaned.
“Come on, ref,” Wraith yelled. “That was a foul.”
“Sorry, coach. Can’t use that language on the field,” the referee said.
Waylay opened her mouth again. Thankfully Chloe had the foresight to slap a hand over the gaping chasm of four-letter words. Waylay fought against her.
“This is her third yellow card in three games. I can’t get her to stop.”
Knox stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled. Everyone looked in our direction including Waylay.
“Way,” he said, crooking his finger. “Get over here.”
Chloe released her, and Waylay, gaze on her feet, cheeks red, marched over to the line.
Knox released me and hooked Waylay by the back of the neck.
“I get it, kid. I do. But you can’t say that shit on the field or in school.”
“Why not? You say it. My mom says it.”
“We’re adults and we don’t have a bunch of other adults breathin’ down our necks, telling us what not to do.”
“So what am I supposed to do? I got tripped! I could have scored.”
“You say it as loud as you want to in your head. You let it come out of your eyes, your pores, every exhale, but you do not say it on the field again. You’re fuckin’ better than that, Way. You’ve got a temper, but there’s a hell of a lot more power in controlling it than letting it fly. Use it, or it’ll use you. You get me?”
She nodded solemnly. “I think so. When can I swear?”
“When you and me are watching football.”
Waylay’s gaze slid to my face, gauging my reaction.
“Don’t you worry about your aunt. She’s proud as hell of you. But you’re only holding yourself back when you blow up like that. So let’s give her something else to be proud about. Yeah?”
She sighed. Then nodded again. “Yeah. Okay. But I get to swear when we watch football?”
“Damn right you do,” Knox said, ruffling her hair.
“And when I’m not in school anymore?”
“You can swear as much as you fucking want after you’re out of college. Maybe grad school too, if you want a PhD or some shit.”
The corner of her mouth lifted.
“That’s better,” he said. “Now, get your ass out there and put the ball in the back of the net so we can get ice cream after.”
“But it’s morning,” she said, again looking at me as if I were some anti-swearing, anti-ice cream monster.
“No better time for ice cream than after a big win,” he assured her.
She grinned up at him. “Okay. Thanks, Knox. Sorry, Aunt Naomi.”
“You’re forgiven,” I assured her. “I’m already proud of you. Now, go be awesome.”
So it wasn’t my best advice to impart. But I was feeling rather swoon-like as Knox stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Wraith. My father, then Nash, joined him. Together they created a wall of testosterone, ready to protect and guide their girls.
“Just when you think he can’t get any hotter,” my mom said, sidling up next to me.
“Are you talking about Knox or Dad?” I asked.
“Both. All of them really. Coach Wraith certainly has a charm about him. And Nash is just as sexy as his brother.”
“Mom!”
“It’s just an observation. We Witt women have excellent taste in men. Well, most of us.”
I covered my mouth with my hand and tried to stifle the laugh.
* * *
Time was ticking down,and the score was still tied 1-1.
“Let’s go, ladies!” Wraith shouted.
I saw Waylay glance our way, caught the tiny smile on her face, and I felt the tingles again. She had a cheering section waiting to celebrate with her, and it meant something to her.
“You’re doing an amazing job with her,” Mom said.
“Really?”
“Look at that smile. Look at how she keeps glancing over here, reassuring herself that we’re all still here. Say what you will about Tina, but giving you her daughter was the best choice she’s ever made.”
My eyes clouded with tears. “Thanks, Mom,” I whispered.
She looped her arm through mine, then tensed. “She has the ball again!”
Wraith’s granddaughter had gotten tangled up with two defenders and sent the ball sailing to Waylay’s feet.
“Go!” we shouted as one, the crowd coming to its feet.
Mom and I clung to each other as Waylay dribbled around the last defender between her and the goal.
“Oh my God, I’m going to be sick.”
“Let ’er rip, Waylay,” Mom shrieked.
So she did. I held my breath as we watched the ball sail in slow motion toward the goal.
The crowd was screaming. I could hear Stef over everyone yelling, “Get it in the net thing!”
The goalie dove for it.
But the ball spiraled just past her fingertips into the back of the net.
I screamed along with Mom as we jumped up and down together.
“That’s my granddaughter!” Mom screeched.
“Fuck yeah!” Wraith bellowed.
“You’re damn right,” Liza shouted.
Sloane and Stef were hugging each other.
The ref blew the final whistle. “That’s game!”
Waylay stood stock-still, staring at the ball in the back of the net as if she couldn’t believe what she’d just done. And then she turned. Her teammates raced to her, shrieking and giggling. But she was looking beyond them. She was looking at me. And then she was running.
And so was I. I caught her when she jumped into my arms and swung her around.
“You did it!”
“Did you see? Did you see what I did, Aunt Naomi?”
“I saw, honey. I’m so proud of you!”
“Can we get ice cream, and can I swear when I watch football with Knox?”
“Yes and I guess so.”
She hugged me tight around the neck and whispered, “This is the best day of my life.”
I was trying to blink back tears when someone pulled her from my arms. It was Knox, and he was settling Waylay on his shoulders as the rest of the players and parents gathered around to congratulate her. Knox shot me one of his rare, full-on grins that made me dizzy.
“Sloane and I have talked, and you’re forgiven,” Stef said, slinging his arm around me.
“As long as we’re invited for ice cream,” Sloane added.
“And included in your life,” Stef insisted.
I pulled them both in for a hard hug, and over their shoulders, I saw Dad clap Knox on the back.