Page 29 of Before I Loved You

“Thank you,” I say as I sit, and she turns, making her way to help the next lost-looking soul.

Wow. This is amazing.

A couple of people walk by me, and my eyes immediately zero in on the last name on their jersey.

Weston.

I laugh, tucking in the backside of my jersey beneath my black leather jacket. When I put it on at home, it draped to my knees, but I was adamant about making it work. It was the first gift I had received in years and well, it means a lot to me. So, with the help of some safety pins and a rubber band, I made it appear like a perfect fit…as long as you don’t look at the back of it. Hence, the leather jacket.

Two guys take their seats beside me, fisting a drink in each hand.

“Can you believe they made him co-captain? I think this will be his best year yet!” one of them says.

“Have you seen his stats? Paul’s anticipated to be the number-one draft pick next summer,” the other responds before guzzling his drink.

Seems to me that Paul’s better than just “okay” at basketball like he had told me he was.

The one closest to me stands, removing his jacket, and I spot the name Weston out of the corner of my eye.

Hmm. Another fan.

I guess I didn’t realize how popular he is.

A group of girls walk by me, appearing more ready to walk a runway show than attend a basketball game.

“Can you believe he signed my shirt for me? God, he’s even cuter in person.” The blonde girl flicks her hair over her shoulder, displaying a signature for her friend to see.

“I still can’t believe you ran into Paul. Lucky bitch,” the friend murmurs.

“I’d definitely do him,” the third girl says, causing them all to laugh.

My teeth grind together as I hold back my tongue from saying something I’ll regret. Paul and I aren’t even together. I have no reason to feel jealous.

And I’m definitely not jealous.

But as I spot another Weston jersey in my periphery, I wonder…

Turning my body, I face the rest of the fans in the stands, spotting jersey after jersey with the last name Weston on them.

Holy shit.

“You think he’ll break his dad’s record for most wins?” the guy beside me asks his friend, piquing my interest. The nosy part of me gets the better of me, so I saddle up closer to the man.

“Who knows? He has a good chance. Maybe someday he’ll even—”

Suddenly, the lights dim drastically as a spotlight illuminates the floor, and a deep bass reverberates throughout the arena. Music starts playing, and an announcer begins rattling off players on the opposing team who come out one after the other.

More boos than cheers are heard for them, exposing more hometown fans tonight.

“And let’s hear it for Linrey University!”

The home team starts jogging out onto the court, and the whole place erupts in a victorious roar, going absolutely feral. The energy in the place is palpable, to say the least.

“Give it up for our first co-captain, Paul Weston!”

Paul strides out looking…well, fuck me; he looks like sex on a stick. His uniform molds perfectly to his sculpted chest and thick thigh muscles. He walks toward the center, appearing serious and focused, but so mouthwatering delicious, just like that first night we met. And just like that first night, his eyes catch on me, eliciting the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen on his face.

I smile back and then melt like butter when he winks at me.

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