Page 71 of First Down Promise

“Wherever he is, I’m sure he’s proud of you.”

“Thanks, Ab. I need to hit my sisters up. It’s been a long time since I’ve talked to them,” he says, reaching for my hand again.

“They’re in Houston? What are they like?”

“Yep, both live there and are married with kids. Janie’s a nurse practitioner at some med spa, and Josie’s an esthetician at the same place.”

“Okay, now I really want to meet them,” I joke.

Josh smiles and continues. “I don’t see them often, but their husbands are cool and good to them. I have three nephews and two nieces now, but I think they’re done having kids.”

“Wow, Uncle Josh. You’re probably the cool uncle.”

He brushes his thumb over mine. “I try to be.”

I want so badly to tell him how much I love him in this moment, but I don’t want to scare him off. He’s had my heart for a long time now, and I never want him to give it back.

“Josh, you know you’re everything to me, right?” I whisper.

He kisses the back of my hand.

“You’re everything to me, too,” he murmurs against my skin.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Josh

“Happy Friendsgiving!” I call out, walking into Pete’s house with a six-pack of a local IPA in each hand. I round the corner to everyone’s favorite spot in Pete’s house—the kitchen.

“Thanks, man,” Pete replies. I set the beer on the counter, and he loads the bottles into the refrigerator. “I got the bird on the smoker. It should be done soon.”

“Nice, smoking was the move,” I say.

Pete shuts the refrigerator as I hear footsteps on the stairs, and I instinctively twist my neck to see if the soft noise is Abby. I notice her feet first in a pair of closed-toe heels, knee-high cream-colored socks that go up her toned calves, and a short, brown corduroy skirt. My eyes continue upward and take in the soft, cream-colored sweater that hangs off one of her shoulders. Her hair falls in big curls around her shoulders, and her maroon lips make her eyes pop.

The last time I saw her, aside from the game on Thanksgiving Day this week, we hooked up in my truck, and I trauma-dumped about my family. I should have told her under different circumstances, but she asked and deserved to know what she’s getting into.

“You’re staring,” Dane mumbles in my ear as he walks by. I blink out of it, and Abby smiles to herself. “Hey, Pete. I brought pie,” he says louder.

“Thanks, Dane. I’ll put these in the garage fridge,” Abby says, taking the two pies from him.

This isn’t our first Friendsgiving. We usually played on Thanksgiving, and since we’re the only single offensive guys left, it became a tradition to meet at Pete’s. For the past two years, Abby has coordinated in our group chat what everyone needed to bring. This year, she put Coop in charge of the sides, Dane dessert, and me a reasonable amount of alcohol.

“Here, I’ll get the door for you,” I say, springing into action.

“My hero,” she teases and follows me to the garage door.

Away from Pete and Dane, I open the door to the garage for her. “You look so fucking gorgeous.” I quickly graze the back of her exposed shoulder as she walks by.

“Thank you. Now, go,” she whispers back.

I shut the door behind her and walk back down the hallway where Coop has arrived with the side dishes. Judging by the various containers, I’m guessing he made a couple of dishes and bought the rest.

“Happy belated Turkey Day,” Coop says to me.

“Right back at you,” I reply.

“Where’s your can opener for the sauce?” Coop asks Pete.