Page 51 of Hometown Halftime

We’re given our samples and take a bite.

Riley’s eyes go wide and he tips his head, telling me to step away from the table. He leans close, and his cologne surrounds me. I breathe it in and get a little dizzy.

“This is really good chili,” he whispers close to my ear. The feeling of his breath on my skin sends a shiver through me.

“It is,” I say dramatically. “Do you want me to sneak some out for you? Like chili contraband?”

He nods, glancing back at the table. “I do. But we can’t ask now; we need to appear neutral. You know, for judging purposes.”

My lips press together, trying to conceal my amusement.

“You’re really excited about this chili, huh?” I whisper. “Do you have a chili boner, Weston? A spicy semi, perhaps?”

His eyes sparkle as he plays along, “I think I do, Kitten. Please don’t tell anyone.”

“You’re secret’s safe with me, Rookie.”

He pulls back to look at me. “Rookie?”

I shrug. “You’re acting like this is your first time eating good chili. Do you need a moment to yourself to…” My eyes dart down to his crotch and back up. “Take care of things?”

“I think I’ll be okay but let me have the clipboard so no one can see my situation.”

My lips tremble and I can’t hold back the laughter any longer. We both giggle like children, and people around us stare. I slap the clipboard against his chest.

“Let’s keep moving before Haddie sees us and comes up with a ridiculous rumor.”

“I could just imagine the tagline,” he waves his hand through the air, “‘Things are heating up at the chili cookoff.’”

I laugh again, looping my arm through his, moving us to the next competitor.

We make our way through the rest of the samples. We argue over spice versus flavor, over whether beans belong in chili at all, and by the time Haddie declares the winner with abundant fanfare, Riley and I are standing closer than we started.

“Want to walk around and see what the vendors have?” he asks once the crowd dies down.

I nod. “Sure. I’m in the market for a ‘live, laugh, love’ sweatshirt anyway.”

He lifts a brow. “Really?”

I shake my head, laughing. “No. God, Riley, if you ever see me wearing anything like that, have me committed.”

We drift away from the booths, past kids bobbing for apples and couples dancing along with the band.

“This has been a fun day. I was thinking I’d put in a couple of hours at the football stand, then go home,” Riley says after a minute.

“Are you kidding? Fall Fest is mandatory. I mean, if I could avoid it, I would.” I pause, hands in my pockets. “But it’s been a good day.”

He smiles at that, glancing over. “Yeah?”

“Don’t read into it, Weston. It’s the chili powder talking.”

He laughs as we pass the pumpkin carving table, then the stage where the band is playing. The crowd thins the farther we go, replaced by strings of lights and the hush of leaves overhead.

“Can I ask you something?” he says, his tone serious as he stops walking, eyes taking in the busy street behind us.

I brace myself. “Sure.”

“Do you ever feel like you’re carrying the version of yourself you used to be?” His voice stays light, but the question isn’t. “Maybe it’s being back here and seeing all my old friends. But Kinsey, I met two of my old teammates' wives today. Wives. I love this town so much, and I love my friends and family, but I just don’t feel like I fit in here anymore.”