Page 50 of Out of Bounds

"Why is it so empty?"

I frowned. "It’s a locker. For football. It’s not an art project."

"Wow." Kassie whistled and inspected the inside, taking a long look at the spotless shelves and the clean clothes, either folded or hung up in the order they were supposed to be. "This is so sad. It’s like an orphan’s belongings."

She slipped off her backpack and stuffed it on an empty shelf.

I frowned. "What are you doing?"

"Stashing contraband."

She dusted her hands off and I reached up to remove the bag from my damn locker, but she smiled at me. Not a nice, ‘hey, thanks for doing something for me’ smile, but a self-satisfied smile.

I wrapped my hand around the door of the locker instead. "Pick a jersey then."

"See? That’s how this is supposed to work."

She ignored the folded ones at the bottom and tugged at one, hung up. It took her a couple of seconds to bunch it at the bottom—she was a whole head shorter than me and so much smaller. So much softer.

Well, her body was softer anyway.

My big objective was finally done, I could leave the locker room, apologize to Coach Lawson, and get everybody on the right track. But I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I’d thrown on those jerseys hundreds of times.

Why is it so different when she wears one?

The bookstore, off-campus, at the games, I saw them everywhere and I’d never really thought about it before.

I kept silent while she twisted it to show me.

It looked good on her. My last name on her looked really good.

"This is called compromise," Kassie continued, "and I know that might be a new concept to you—"

"Brand new concept."

"It’s one you got to get used to."

The team was going hard outside, and I had to get back to training, but not without something clearly established.

I ducked down low, only a few inches between the two of us.

She wasn’t expecting the close contact. I could see it in her eyes, the flutter of her eyelashes, the catch in her breath. But she didn’t move away from me either. It was like those twenty seconds before a whistle blows and the game begins. Adrenaline—I could taste it at the back of my throat, but something more. Anticipation hung heavy in the air.

"Kassie?"

"Yes?"

"You’re going to wear this jersey."

"Am I?"

"Yes," I confirmed. "This one and nobody else’s."

She raised an eyebrow. "Or what?"

"If you wear anybody else's, I’m going to rip it off your body."

I meant it as a side comment. Something that I believed, but a throwaway line. I waited for Kassie to come back with a reply. Maybe something about how I couldn’t wrap a leash around her. Instead, a blush spilled across her cheeks, making me think back over the words, chewing them over.

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