Page 48 of The Quarterback Sneak

“Zach,” I breathe. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“What kind of fake boyfriend would I be if I didn’t celebrate my fake girlfriend’s birthday?” He laughs it off, but I can hear the nervousness in his voice. “It’s not much, and it probably cost more to get your hair done tonight, but when I saw it, I thought of you immediately.”

I arch my back, giving myself enough space to open the pouch but stay in Zach’s embrace. Pulling out a chain necklace, the gold pendant catches my eye, and I inhale sharply. It’s gorgeous and nothing like the chunky designer jewelry my mother favors. Hanging on the bottom of the necklace is a small geometric honeycomb pendant with what looks like resin in the form of honey dripping off them. Just above the resin, there’s a tiny gold bee. “Zach, it’s beautiful.”

His cheeks bloom red when I pull him in for a hug and kiss him on the cheek. “I hope you like it.”

“I love it.” In reality, he could have bought me a pair of socks, and I’d love them because I know the sentiment behind it means so much more than the designer handbags Jamie got me.

“It’s nothing, really. We had a few hours before an away game, and Mike and I were walking down the street. I saw this in the store window and immediately thought of you.”

Chewing on my bottom lip, I smile. He thinks about me when I’m not around. It’s not just me.

“Will you help me put it on?” I offer the necklace back, and he hesitates for a second.

“Are you sure you want to wear it?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

His eyes flick across my body. “It might not match your dress or your other jewelry.” I know the underlying implication of his statement. He doesn’t think his necklace was expensive enough for my taste.

“It will go perfectly.” Dropping the necklace into his palm, I turn around and push my hair out of the way. Zach drapes the necklace around my neck, and his fingers tickle my skin.

After a few seconds, he chuckles. “I’m sorry it’s taking so long. My fat fingers make the latch hard.” I just hum, waiting for him to finish. “There you go.”

As I turn around, I touch the delicate necklace and look at Zach. “How do I look?”

He studies the jewelry, not looking me in the eyes when he says, “Beautiful. But you don’t need a necklace for that. You’re always the prettiest person in the room.”

When his gaze finally sweeps to mine, I lose my breath. He is beautiful, and my chest expands at his thoughtfulness. There’s an electric charge in the air, and my breathing becomes heavy as I stare at the only boy who has ever made me feel like I’m all he sees.

My hands clench as I hold myself back, but when he smiles again, I can’t stop myself.

Now or never.

“What the—” Zach says, surprised when I push him back against the navy and white wood-paneled wall, then plant my lips across his. Fireworks explode in my chest, but when he doesn’t immediately reciprocate, I still, open my eyes, and regret slithers down to my toes.

What the hell have I done? There’s no one here, and I’ve forced myself on him without so much as a warning.

Then something incredible happens. Zach’s shoulders relax, and his soft lips meld against mine; the subtle flavor of my father’s gin replaces any concern I harbored. I groan into his touch, and he takes that as an invitation to thread his hands in my hair, massaging the back of my neck with his fingers.

He’s not stopping me, and although we’ve done this countless times for show, this kiss feels better than any other.

He’s into it.

And when he slides his tongue into my mouth, I clutch at the lapels of his tux, pouring every ounce of emotion into our kiss because I don’t have the guts to say how I feel out loud.

My brain is fried, my body woozy from every teasing touch his tongue makes against mine.

I open my mouth because I want more. I can freely admit that now that I’m pretty sure we’re on the same page.

There’s no way he’d buy me such a thoughtful gift or waste hours with my parents if he had no feelings for me. He wouldn’t be clutching at my hair or angling my mouth in the right direction either.

My body throbs when one of his hands lands on my hip, then trails down. Tingles run straight to my core as his fingers slowly skip across my skin. Nipping at his bottom lip, I kiss him harder, firmer than before, and when his hand moves farther down to the hem of my skirt, I feel something strange.

Something I shouldn’t be feeling in the hallway of my house while there are people on the other side of the door.

But I can’t stop it.

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