Mia Hill. College bound with an athletic scholarship. A go-getter with big dreams and a fully thought out plan to make sure they come true.
But with her father's release from prison looming and the inevitable stresses of adulting, everything she wa...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Clocks a tickin' Mia," Grayson's mocking and far too premature gloat sails across the backyard.
"He's a cocky little thing, isn't he?" My Aunt Lacy stands from the huddle, arms on her hips as she throws him a look. "I like him."
"Hey!" My hand clings to her arm, pulling her softly back into the group for the plan. "We're not out of this yet."
When I learned Grayson wasn't going home for Thanksgiving, I asked him to come to my house. Seeing as he could make the drive up here early this morning and return in time for practice tomorrow afternoon, it seemed like a much better choice than him having to order takeout.
And as soon as my mom got word Grayson Adler would be joining us for Thanksgiving, she went out of her way to make sure he had at least one tradition from home. According to her, everyone deserves a slice of home on the holidays. And well, one of Grayson's favorite Thanksgiving traditions just so happens to be football with his family.
Naturally, he and I became opposing captains, and it wasn't long into choosing our teams that this whole extravaganza turned into a boys versus girls battle. Seeing as Grayson is the only experienced football player here, it's actually a decently matched game.
"I don't know," my mom is the one standing now, giving some ridiculous I see you gesture to Tommy. Two fingers on her eyes before throwing them his way. She even adds an embarrassing wink. "Sorry, I'm completely distracted. My husband is so dang cute sometimes." She laughs, completely lost.
Am I the only one taking this seriously right now?
"We're doomed," my sister chimes in, shaking her head as Lacy begins adjusting her shirt.
"We are not doomed. Mom. Aunt Lacy. Focus," I clap my hands, pulling both of their eyes back my way. "We're only down by one touch down, with one play left in the game. They know where the ball is going."
"To you," my youngest cousin, Sienna, clarifies with a nod.
"Yeah, but they've got me double teamed right now. Between Grayson and Uncle Trey, I can't seem to get open."
"Leave your uncle to me," my aunt smirks, standing with a newfound sense of confidence. I don't ask what her plan is. I've learned when it comes to Aunt Lacy, it's best to let her do her own thing.
"Okay," Mom leans in. "But you've still got Grayson covering you and he's not going to let you get into that end zone."
"You just let me deal with Grayson. And don't go getting distracted again, Mom. He's your husband for crying out loud."
"Hey, talk to me when your man is blitzing you in the backfield."
"I think I'm beginning to really like this football lingo," Aunt Lacy's smile curves up slightly, her eyes suddenly graced with a sinister twinkle. "I wouldn't mind being blitzed in the–"
