Page 59 of Home Game

I want her to be happy. To never show up again with tears because of me. Though she says I’m not the cause, I know I am. But I want to be worth it. Worth the rumors and the shit-talking. Worth her giving up one of her favorite things, like riding on a float down Main Street. Because right now, I’d give it all up to make her happy.

I am all in.

Chapter Nineteen

Asmall part of me wishes that I kept up with my messages last night. Ignoring them was good for my mental health at the time, but facing the reality of them right now feels like a major slide backward.

I rub my eyes as I sit up in Wyatt’s bed, his comforter clutched to my chest while his back rises and falls with the rhythm of his breathing. I don’t want to wake him. Not yet. He was everything I needed last night. And also, he made me feel things on my body that I didn’t think were real.

What we did wasn’t sex. It was love. The way he cared for me, put me first, and cherished me? I was beginning to believe those were fantasies in my romance novels. But they aren’t. They are real when you find someone worthy. When you find the right person.

As blissful as the thought is of snuggling up next to him and repeating everything from last night, I have to deal with the day ahead of me.

It’s Friday, and I am pretty sure I’m not going to school. The CALL ME text from my mom is a pretty solid indicator that Imight lose the keys to the Jeep too. I take care of my messages from Lexi and Tasha first, assuring them that I am all right and I’ll update them when I find out what my punishment is. There’s a voicemail from Coach Nelson too. But as for my dad, absolute radio silence.

“Hey.” Wyatt’s voice is groggy. He sits up next to me and kisses my bare shoulder.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” I kiss his lips but hold my lips closed, not sure what state my breath is in. He chuckles and slips out of the bed, his bare ass on full display.

“Oh, hey! It’s daylight.” I chuckle, covering my eyes with my hand but spreading my fingers apart for an easy peek.

He shoots me a grin over his shoulder before slipping on his sweatpants.

“You want something of mine?” he asks.

I shrug and scan the room for my discarded clothes. He picks them up and sets them on the foot of the bed, then grabs a very large Buffalo Bills sweatshirt from his closet.

“It was my dad’s,” he says, tossing it to me.

“Oh, I shouldn’t take it, then,” I say, feeling the warn cotton in my hands.

“It’s fine. I have a lot of his things. And to be clear, I’m not giving that to you permanently,” he says through laughter.

I smile and slip it over my body.

“Fair enough,” I say.

I put on my shorts and wrap my bra and panties in my T-shirt before hunting down my shoes. I spot them near Wyatt’s dresser, so I get up to shove my feet into them and run my fingers through what feels like pretty crazy hair. I manage to work it into a bun, taking a pen from on his desk to push through the center and hold it in place.

I’m listening to my message from my coach when Wyatt steps back into his room, showered and dressed for school. Hewaits while I finish, getting the gist of what she has to tell me. I’m suspended for two days, today and Monday. And cheering next Friday is up in the air. Also, my dad wants to talk to me.

“Great. That’s settled,” I say, clicking my phone screen off and tucking my phone into my side pocket.

“Mom? Dad? Or?—”

“Coach,” I say, filling in the third option. I suppose it could have been the dean or the athletic director, but given how close everyone is with my dad, I figured everyone would pretty much defer to him on this mess.

“How bad?” Wyatt asks.

“Not as bad as I expected,” I admit. “No school today or Monday, though that doesn’t mean I don’t get all the work.”

“Ha, yeah, that’s not really a punishment. That’s more of a vacation.”

“Hmm.” I nod in agreement.

“Technically, even though my game is atyourschool tonight, it’s not really your school’s event, so does that mean . . . ?” His hopeful eyes, all wide and puppy-dogged, are irresistible. I step into his open arms and give in, letting him kiss me and my bad breath.

“I will be at your game even if I have to break out of prison to do it,” I promise. I doubt that will be the case, though. I may, however, be stuck in awkward silence sitting next to my father. I really wish I didn’t invite him now.

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