Page 27 of Before I Loved You

But would a burglar knock?

I look at the ceiling and mutter, “I’m an idiot.”

“Paul?”

Shit. I glance to my side, finding Sarah in the hallway. She’s got a smile on her face that she’s trying but failing to hide as she tilts her head to the side, observing me with those big green eyes. Her long, black hair is in a messy bun on the top of her head, except for a few loose strands that have escaped, framing her face.

“Were you just going to spend the night staring at my door?” she asks, taking a few steps toward me.

I shake my head. “No. Sorry.” Running a hand over the top of my head, I explain, “I was just over at Natalie’s with Nate, and everyone was crashing for the night, so I thought I’d head over here to…” Why was I heading over here? Oh right. The jersey. “I was going to knock, but then I realized how late it was.” I take in her outfit, my eyes scanning up and down. Fitted jeans with a black top, both pieces covered in a red substance. “Please tell me that’s paint.”

She laughs, suddenly peering down at herself. “Yeah. I just came from the art studio on campus.” She runs the back of her arm over her forehead, pushing back the loose strands of hair. “I probably look like a mess.”

I shake my head. “Not at all.” I reach for a piece of her dark hair that refuses to stay in place and tuck it behind her ear. “You look beautiful.”

Her eyes catch mine as my hand cups her cheek, my thumb swiping softly over her creamy, pale skin. I pull my hand away, showing her my thumb, now covered in red paint. “You missed a spot.”

She grins, but suddenly, her head tilts to the side as her eyes glimpse down at my hand, narrowing in on what I’m holding. “What’s that?”

“Oh.” I lift the jersey, handing it to her. “I got you my jersey so you could wear it to the game tomorrow night. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought you might need something to wear and—”

“Thank you.” She smiles, taking the jersey from me. “Weston,” she says with amusement as her eyes dance over each embroidered letter. Her fingers hold the jersey from the top, letting the material dangle in front of her.

And that’s when I realized I fucked up because it’s going to be ridiculously huge on her.

“Shit. I didn’t know what size to get you.” I start to reach for it. “I can take it back and get you a different size.”

She clutches it to her chest. “It’s perfect. I’ll just tie it up on the sides.”

“Are you sure?”

She nods adamantly. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” I nod, trying to think of anything to say. “When you get to the stadium, you just need to go to the ticket booth by the entrance and tell them your name. They’ll be holding a ticket for you.” My brows furrow. “Or do you want me to meet you out front? Because I can if—”

“I’ll be fine, Paul. I’m a big girl. I think I can manage getting my ticket and finding my seat.” She chuckles.

“Yeah. Sorry. I just…want to make sure everything goes smoothly for you.” Clearing my throat, I confess, “I’ve never asked anyone to come watch my game before.”

“No?” she asks, her eyes slightly widening at my admission.

I shake my head. “The only people who usually come to watch me are my family, and Nate and Natalie have, too, a few times.”

She bites her bottom lip, looking anywhere but at me. Did I say too much?

Be bold, Paul.

I reach out, lightly gripping her chin between my fingers, angling her face so our eyes meet. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

She licks her lips, her chest heaving the slightest bit. “I’ll be there.”

A thousand thoughts are dancing across her eyes—a story I want to read over and over again.

Her lips part as she looks up at me under those damn long eyelashes, her green eyes sparkling under the dimly lit hallway light. My hand slides down her jaw to her neck, where I feel her pulse beating as fast as mine. My fingers slide to the back of her neck, tilting her head ever so slightly as I lean down. Her eyelids flutter closed as she lets out a whoosh of air, anticipation building between us. I let my lips brush across hers but don’t press down. Not yet. Not until—

A door nearby opens, breaking the spell as I drop my hand and step back. We both swivel our heads, finding Jason walking out of Natalie’s apartment with something crumpled in his fist, muttering to himself. He smacks his forehead, shaking his head, clearly upset about something. When he finally looks up, and his eyes spot us, observing the closeness of our bodies, he momentarily freezes, his eyes darting between Sarah and me.

His lips open and close. Open and close. Until finally, he says, “I’ll just…” He points to his door and quickly moves around us, heading inside his apartment with a slam of his door.

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