Miss Me Not (20 page)

"Madison, this is my sister Trish," Dean said, stopping in front of the small group.

"Madison, it's a pleasure to meet you," a tall brunette that I recognized from the family tree wall said, stepping away from the group to give me my millionth hug of the day. I tried not to focus on how drop-dead gorgeous she was, and how intimidated I suddenly felt being in the presence of people my own age. Could they tell I didn't belong here? Surely, it vibrated off of me like some sonic signal.

"I feel like I've known you for years as much as D has talked about you," Trish joked, releasing me.

"Same here," I said truthfully. It had become clear after the first few days of being Dean's friend, that he shared a close relationship with his sister. Even with her away at college, he still made sure that he talked or texted her at least once a day.

"Great, Dean has a girlfriend. Can we move on so we can play some ball?" one of his cousins said snidely.

I studied him for a moment. For some reason, maybe it was his shorter, slimmer appearance, he reminded me of Perry Pervert. He just looked like a slimy weasel.

"Keep your shirt on, Pete," Dean said, shooting the guy a glare.

"Yeah,
don't be a dick
, Pete," Trish said, rolling her eyes at me. "He can be such an idiot," she whispered, linking her arm through mine. "I really am glad to meet you. I haven't ever seen D this happy. Try not to hurt him, okay?" she added as we joined the others.

Her words made my stomach drop like someone had poured a gallon of cement down my throat. Did she really just warn me? Her warning was too late of course. It was inevitable I would hurt him.

"Ready for some fun," Dean said, joining us.

"Uh, I think I'd rather watch," I said, realizing they wanted me to join in on their game.

"Nice try," one of the other girls said, smiling at me. "I tried that excuse the last time John brought me to one of these get-togethers," she went on, indicating a taller guy off to our left with a mess of golden locks that fell across his forehead. "I'm Courtney, by the way," she said, holding out her hand.

I shook it, grateful she wasn't a hugger.
"Nice to meet you.
Seriously, though, I know absolutely nothing about football."

"That excuse won't fly here. Believe me, I tried it. All you need to remember is, if anyone hands the ball to you, run for the end zone as fast as you can," she said, pointing to the far end of the field.

"Seriously?"
I asked.

"Don't worry, you'll be fine. Plus, don't tell John, but it's actually a lot of fun."

"Madison, no fraternizing with the enemy," Trish said, coming over to drag me to the team I had obviously been drafted to. "You're going down boyee," she said to Courtney in an over-the-top gangsta voice.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night,
Trishy.
They don't call me lucky for nothing," Courtney called after us.

After joining my team, I was dismayed to learn that Dean was on the opposing team. I started to fume when I looked over at him for help and he merely winked at me.
Mother of F, it was bad enough I had to play a game I knew nothing about, but being on my own sucked major ass
, I thought to myself as I decided the alligators for torture were still a viable option.

I forced myself to pay attention in our huddle so I wouldn't commit some football faux pas, but all I got out of it was to run if you had the ball and block the other players if you didn't. The first play was relatively painless since Dean's team had the ball first. A couple of guys on my team tackled Dean before he had run more than a few yards with the ball he had caught. The next play was a complete disaster when I failed to tackle him, allowing him to dance into the end zone.

My teammates booed and hissed at Dean's maneuver.

"Nice, you knew I wouldn't tackle you," I hissed at Dean as he jogged over to me triumphantly.

"Have to take any advantage I can get," he said chuckling before brushing a soft kiss across my cheek.

Before I could think to respond, he was back with his teammates who all high-fived him in celebration.

"Madison, you need to make those tackles," Pete griped when I joined my team.

I merely nodded, gritting my teeth.
Whatever, ass hat
.
I thought as I resisted the urge to give him the one-finger salute. If he wants someone tackled, he could do it himself.

"Boys suck," Trish whispered when he turned away.

"Truth," I said, grateful for her support.

We weren't as successful at scoring as the opposing team, thankfully through no fault of mine at least. Dean's team scored again on their next handoff. This time it was Travis who scored. Pete was practically foaming at the mouth as he barked out orders to us.

"Take a chill pill, Pete," Dean said as we lined up at the line of scrimmage.

"Worry about your own team, dickwad," Pete retorted, obviously taking the game way more seriously than needed.

I watched as Trish and Dean exchanged a look, making it clear I wasn't the only one who thought he was acting like an asshole.

Our team continued to falter as the game progressed. For the most part, the rest of my team didn't care as they horsed around. Pete's mood, on the other hand, continued to deteriorate as we fell further behind. My earlier assumption of him proved to be accurate as he tried to embellish the rules as the game progressed. He griped about penalties, even though it was just for fun, and claimed to be farther down the field than he actually was whenever he got tackled. The mean person in me was secretly pleased that we were losing since his condescending tone was enough to set me teeth on edge.

"It's about time to eat, guys," a petite round woman called from the front of the house.

"One more
play
, Mom," one of the guys on my team yelled back.

"This is it. We can't win, but we can come out of this without looking like complete pussies," Pete said when we were huddled together. "I think we should hand the ball off to Madison. They won't expect her to have it since she's done nothing but stand around the whole game," he said sarcastically.

How
'
bout I just kick you in the face?
I thought. It probably wouldn't be the best thing to knock his teeth down his throat in front of so many witnesses. Trish, though, didn't have the same qualms as me as she reached over and socked him hard in the arm.

"You're a prick, Pete," she said after she hit him.

"And you're a bitch," he shot back, glaring at her as he rubbed the spot where she had punched him.

"All right, can we get along for one more play," the guy from earlier said. "Even though he has as much tact as a jackass, Pete's got a point. If we hand the ball off to Madison, we might have a chance of scoring a touchdown. You up for that?" he asked.

"Sure, it's at least worth a try," I lied.

"All right then, let's
go
out as the losers who didn't give up," he said, slapping me on the back.

Gnashing my teeth together, I didn't allow myself to react to his touch. They were the touchiest freaking people I'd ever met. Was it too much to ask for a germaphobe in the group?

Lining back up at the line of scrimmage for the last time, I immediately saw that our plan would be a bust when Dean lined up directly across from me. He grinned knowingly.

I arched my eyebrows at him, returning his taunt. His eyes never left mine, making my heart thump just a little faster in my chest. I could hear Pete counting down the play off to my left, but the words were more of a nuisance as Dean's eyes continued to suck me in.

I was jerked back to the game when a ball was thrust in my hands and Pete was hissing in my ear to run. Darting around Dean, I took off running with the ball tucked tightly against my chest. Seeing the end zone free of defensive players, I ran full out as exhilaration shot through me. Victory was mine for the taking as I crossed into the end zone.

My triumph was cut short when I was tackled from behind by Dean. Together we crashed to the ground. Dean kept his arms around me to cushion the fall, but the air was still knocked out of me as we landed in a heap.

"You okay?" Dean asked concerned as I gasped slightly for air.

I nodded as air finally made its way into my chest.

"Sorry,
Mads
. I didn't mean to knock you down so hard. You were going a little faster than I thought," he said, reaching out to softly stroke my cheek. Concentrating on breathing became even more difficult as I realized that he was sprawled on top of me. For the briefest moment, it felt good to feel the weight of his body on mine as I studied his lips, silently wishing they would touch mine. Seeing the acceptance in my eyes, he leaned in closer, letting all his weight rest on me. Then suddenly, with a flip of some kind of inner switch, his weight no longer felt good as it pinned me against the ground, making it impossible to move. I panicked, pushing and shoving at him to try and dislodge his weight from mine. My ears were filled with a weird whining noise that only added to my hysteria.

Confusion clouded Dean's eyes as he lifted himself off me. I wanted to tell him I was okay. I needed to tell him it wasn't him, it was me. Any words I could have uttered were drowned out by the strange sound ricocheting through my ears. I tried to remember if I hit my head when we had crashed to the ground.

"Madison, it's okay," he said, kneeling beside me.

I wondered if he was hearing the buzzing noise also.

"Madison, it's okay," he repeated, looking panic stricken over his shoulder.

Understanding slowly dawned on me. The strange noise was coming from my own throat. Clamping my hand over my mouth, I stifled the noise with the palm of my hand. Instantly, the buzzing in my ears ceased.

"Is she okay, D?" I heard Trish ask as she came up behind Dean.

Oh, here we go
, I thought. This was when my inner freak would shine through.

"Yeah, just got the wind knocked out of her," Dean answered, covering for me. "Go ahead and wash up. We'll be inside in a minute."

"Way to go, dip," Trish chastised him. "Good job, Madison," she added, beaming down at me.

I nodded, not trusting myself to try actual speech yet.

"You okay?" Dean asked for the third time after she walked away.

"Just trying to give your family the full freak show," I mumbled, slowly sitting up.

"Here, let me help you," he said, reaching out a hand to pull me to my feet. "What happened?" he finally asked when I was standing in front of him.

"I don't know, Sport-o. Could it be that you knocked the air out of me, and then proceeded to crush my lungs with your weight?" I retorted, going for the defensive as anger swirled up inside me. I had nothing to apologize for. He was the one that was changing the rules midway in. It wasn't my fault.

"Cut the shit," he said, grabbing my shoulders so I couldn't walk away. "What. Happened?" he asked, emphasizing his words.

All fight went out of me as my shoulders drooped underneath his hands. "I don't know," I answered honestly. I didn't understand my panic. I thought I was adjusting to his touch, at least enough where I didn't freak if his skin touched mine.

"What happened to you?" he asked quietly, stepping closer to me.

"It's not what happened to me, it's what I did," I said, pulling away from him.

"Madison, are you okay, dear?" Sarah asked, coming around the house to join us.

"Yeah, I just go the air knocked out of me," I answered, not looking at Dean.

"You poor thing.
That's the worst feeling ever," she said, putting an arm around my shoulder. "I'm sure my son is to blame," she said knowingly.

I nodded as she led me around the house.

"Men, they always like to use brute force," she ridiculed, glaring at her son.

"Hey, it was an accident," Dean defended himself.

So far, Thanksgiving with the Jackson clan was different than anything I had ever experienced, and dinner was no exception. It was every bit as loud and chaotic as Dean had predicted, but I couldn't help responding to it like a flower in the sun. All of the
laughter,
cheer and obviously genuine love had me forgetting my anxiety from earlier.

Dozens of conversations went on at the same time around me as I soaked it all in. The food was mouthwatering, and I was surprised to learn that Dean was responsible for the deep fried turkeys that made up the main course. He was a guy of many talents.

"What do you think?" Dean asked, leaning over so I could hear him over the noise.

"It's crazy," I said, relieved he was willing to forget about my meltdown. "But in a good way," I added. "There's so many conversations going on, I feel like my head is spinning."

"Yep, this is us. For the most part, we all get along and enjoy spending time together, with the exception of a few," he said.