NFL Imagines

🕸 Logan Wilson 🕸

Title: Play With Me
Warnings: Scaring people

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It's a Friday, and thank God it's a Friday. You had just endured a long week, a week you had spent counting down the days until Friday. Your son appeared to have similar thoughts. He basically collapsed in the backseat, telling you how happy he was that it was finally Friday as he slammed the car door shut.

He's blond and tall for his age, just like his dad had been. The result of a one night stand back when you were dumb, reckless teenagers. You decided to keep it and your now husband—was once a stranger—wanted to be in his child's life. So you took the risk, took a chance on a boy you didn't know and a new life you couldn't predict. You didn't regret a thing. If you could do it all over again, you wouldn't change anything.

Looking up in the rear view mirror, you grin at how out of it he looks, slumped in his seat and expression exhausted. "How was your day? Tell me all about it." He instantly straightens.

"I didn't learn anything," he begins, getting an eye roll from you. "But at recess, I played football with my friends."

Recess. The main topic of every car ride home after school. You never got tired of hearing how excited he would get when discussing recess. He always broke it down for you, telling you every little detail about what he did and how he did it. It was like listening to Logan after a game, excitedly rambling about every play and how each one played out. You knew who your son got it from.

"Oh really?" You ask. This is the first time he had ever played football with his friends. Every story you heard was about tag or hide-and-seek, nothing about football. It sparked your interest and excited you to hear about. "Who won?"

With a confident smile, he points to himself. "My team. I caught the winning touchdown with a spin move to avoid a tackle. Put six up on the board." He'd been spending too much time with his dad. He was speaking exactly like the man.

"Your dad is going to love hearing that." You loved hearing that, but the pride and joy it's going to bring your linebacker husband could never beat the pride and joy it brings you. It's different for a dad, just as it's different for a mom.

"I'm the fastest." His smile turns lopsided, losing the smugness. "Like Uncle Ja'Marr."

You cock a brow. "Think you're faster than him?"

Your son laughs and shakes his head. "No one is faster than Uncle Ja'Marr. Not even daddy. Uncle Ja'Marr can't be beat, and that's a fact."

"You have no idea what you're going to start between your dad and uncle if they hear that," You say while making a face, the competition playing out in your head. It would be a wild race, one that had the team divided on who they thought would be victorious.

"Where is daddy? Is he practicing today?"

"No, he's at home." You turn into your neighborhood. "He wanted to get a little decorating done. You know how much he loves Halloween."

He widely smiles. "I do too! It's our favorite holiday."

"I think you'll be very happy with all the decorations he bought this year," you say, and your son's response makes you loudly laugh.

"He went overboard, didn't he?"

You nod, grinning so broadly it pains your cheeks. "You know your dad so well."

It's only a second later that you arrive home. Your son snatched his backpack and jumps out, a skip in his step. He hurries towards the front door and you walk behind him, watching how he's almost shaking with excitement.