Brooke laughs, then adds, “Maybe not such a bad one either.”
“Oh, we’re going to get along well,” I say to Brooke. I rub my palms. “All right. I have my vote on what movie you should watch.”
Brooke beckons with her fingers. “Lay it on us.”
“Sweet Spot,” I declare.
Brooke’s brown eyes light up. “Yes, because it’s–”
“Based on a book,” Brooke and I say in unison.
Then I shoo Drew away from his spot, so I can switch with him. “Move, I need to sit next to your fiancée. I’ve already decided she’s fabulous and I adore her.”
Brooke smiles. “I adore you too.”
“And we need to talk about this book right now,” I add as we switch seats. With a harrumph, Drew takes my seat, but I don’t think he’s really mad.
“Yes we do,” she says.
“Told you so,” Gabe says to Drew.
“Yup. They like each other,” Drew replies.
I smile, then I focus on Brooke. We spend most of the meal discussing our favorite books.
When we’re done with the meal, the four of us wander through Santa Monica, the guys chatting about their next poker game, Axel’s whereabouts, and who’s looking strong on the pro basketball team.
With the guys a few steps behind us, Brooke shares insider tips with me on Venice, from the best bookstores to the best shops, since she’s lived in that neighborhood for some time. “Bling and Baubles is my favorite. My friend Rachel owns that shop,” she says offhand.
My jaw drops. “Wait. Jewelry shop Rachel is your friend too?” I ask in excitement.
“Yes. I’ve known her for a while.”
“I already adopted her,” I say, then tell Brooke how I met Rachel.
“Then that’s perfect. Do you want to join us for ping-pong later this week?” Brooke asks.
I want nothing more than to play ping-pong with new friends. “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” I say.
“Me too,” Brooke seconds.
I love LA.
32
MY CHEERLEADER
Gabe
First game of the season, and I am pumped. In the locker room before kickoff, the energy is bright and noisy.
Coach comes in and gives a no-nonsense this is our time to show what focus is speech.
When he’s done, I smack palms with most of the guys, another one of our pre-game rituals. Then, when it’s time to hit the field, our running back, Rand, chimes in with let’s go, whooping and clapping as we trot out.
I’ve got my helmet in one hand, and my hacky sacks in the other.
Well, rituals matter and this is my streak ritual. “Let’s put these to use all season,” I say to Drew as we reach the mouth of the tunnel.
He offers a fist for knocking. “You know we will.”
Then, the announcer calls my name and number, and I run out on the field, Drew following shortly behind, as the last one, since he’s the quarterback.
And when we win the coin toss, he’s fast and lasered in on the target—me. I connect on the first pass of the opening drive, then gain another twenty-two yards.
A few plays later, I put it in the end zone.
And like that, we set a rhythm for the game. When I jog to the sidelines as special teams comes on, I look to the stands.
And I grin. There she is. At least, I think it’s Ellie. We’ve got a packed crowd here.
But I snagged her seats on the fifty-yard line. I squint, just making her out next to Rachel and Maddox, I think. Brooke is here too since she’s part of their crew now, and Ellie’s become fast friends with her.
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 the Fabio’s List premiere. 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 titled Moving 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 for The Dating Games.
The opening credits roll and when Created by Ellie Snow scrolls 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 is a 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.
“You made this the best season ever. I love you,” he says, quiet but loud enough for me to hear above the noise of the crowd.
“I love you too,” I say, so damn glad I took the good guy challenge for this great man.
FINAL EPILOGUE
Ellie
All the stockings are hung by the chimney with care. I adjust one over the mantel, liking the way it looks in my home. Well, it’s almost our home now since Gabe is here nearly every night. Gigi stretches her legs behind her on the couch, posing frog style, the cutie. I walk over, since I can’t resist giving her a little chin scratch. “It looks good, don’t you think?”