Page 62 of Gator
Still, every time someone passed behind us or a shadow shifted in the periphery, my head turned automatically. I didn’t want him to see it, didn’t want to drag that tension into his night, but I couldn’t shut it off.
During the time-out, Miranda tugged her blanket tighter and stood. “Popcorn run. You two want anything?”
“I’ll come,” Julius said, already getting up.
“I’ll tag along,” I added before he could argue.
Miranda raised a brow. “Still protective, huh?”
“Occupational hazard,” I said lightly, but my eyes were already tracking the crowd around the concession area. “Besides, someone’s gotta make sure you two don’t get trampled.”
The line moved slowly, and the lights over the stand flickered just enough to make me uneasy. I kept my hand near the small of Julius’s back without really thinking about it—close enough to guide, not enough to cage. He leaned into the touch anyway, glancing up with a small smile.
“You’re allowed to have fun, you know.”
“I am,” I said. “Just multitasking.”
He snorted. “Sure. Fun on one side, paranoia on the other.”
“Exactly.”
Julius and Miranda kept a running commentary about the crowd—who was on their third hot dog, who was sneakily pouring from a flask into their soda. It made me grin despite myself. He had a way of pulling me into the moment without me realizing it.
When we were close to the front, Julius turned to me, grinning. “I’m telling you, this is the best part of the night. Stadium food is pure nostalgia.”
“You call this food?” I teased, eyeing the fryer.
“You hush. You’ve got to embrace the grease.”
Miranda laughed. “He’s right, Gator. It’s tradition. You can’t fight the allure of football cuisine.”
“I ain’t fightin’ it,” I said, holding up my hands. “Hell, I grew up on it, but that’s the key phrase. I grew up.”
“Whatever.” Julius grinned before turning back to the mom taking the order. “I’ll have aFritopie, a large pickle, and aDiet Coke. Oh, and some nachos.”
I wiggled my fingers in the air. “Good thing you have an extra set of hands to help carry some of that.”
He just winked at me and turned back to the counter.
We came back with our haul—Julius with food for three people, popcorn for Miranda, and water for me, and settled in again. The noise of the game washed over us, and slowly, the tension in my shoulders eased. A little. Julius’s niece nailed her routine at halftime, and the stands erupted. Julius jumped up, cheering like a proud uncle, his grin wide and unguarded. I caught Miranda watching him, eyes soft.
It had been fun, but when the game ended, the Vipers winning by seven, I was ready to go. We helped Miranda gather hermountain of stuff—tote, blanket, half a box of popcorn—and walked her out to her SUV.
The crowd was thinning, but I still kept one eye on the shadows, scanning the edges of the lot where the lights didn’t reach. A loud bang rang out somewhere behind us, and my body tensed before I realized it was just a kid tossing his gear in the bed.
Miranda unlocked her SUV and turned to smile at us. “Thanks for coming, you two. She’s gonna be thrilled you saw her cheer.”
“She was amazing,” Julius said.
“She was. You tell her I said so,” I added.
Miranda grinned. “You’re sweet, Gator. And sexy. That’s a dangerous combination.”
Julius groaned. “Do not flirt with my sister.”
I smirked. “I wasn’t me. It was her.”
She laughed, waved, and climbed into her SUV. We stood there a minute, watching her taillights fade down the road. Julius slid his hand into mine, fingers curling around mine.