Page 106 of Saving the Halfback

He leaned against it, still standing. We were far enough from others that they couldn’t see or hear us. “Do you have any weed?” I asked, running my hands through my hair and pacing.

“For me or you?” he joked, but I could tell his pupils were still pinpoint, his hand twitching, and he was grinding his teeth.

“What were you thinking?” I snapped at him. He didn’t react, just watched me. “What if they find out? What if they take you away? What if I have to go through another year without you?” I was becoming hysterical, tears slipping free. “Why would you do that? Why would Chase do that?”

Lachlan pushed off the tree, slipping his hand to the back of my neck, his other hand on my waist as he pulled me in close, pressing his forehead against mine. “The fact that you don’t see yourself as worthy of being protected breaks me.”

My body sagged under his touch. “You can’t risk yourself for me. There’s nothing I can do to change what happened. You guys can’t ruin yourself over me.”

“Baby, can’t you see? We’re finding ourselves over you.”

I searched his eyes, looking for some truth to his words. His pupils were no longer pinpoint. As he held my gaze, they dilated, blown wide, as if he were getting high at the mere sight of me.

I tilted my head, brushing my lips against his, a feather of a touch and then a pause, asking for permission, waiting.

Lachlan’s lips tipped to a soft smile, the smile he only wore when he looked at me. The smile I was now dubbingmysmile. “I want words. Ask me, baby.”

“Kiss me, please, Lachlan.”

His hand came up, cupping my jaw. “You ask me, and I will give you anything. I will give youeverything.”

Lachlan’s lips were sweet and soft when they brushed against mine. I leaned forward, wanting more. He smirked before melting his lips against mine. Lachlan kissed me slowly, tenderly. He wasn’t just savoring me, he was making me savor him. His taste, his scent, his touch, he gave just as much as he took.

I reached under his shirt, grazing his skin and causing his muscles to twitch. I pulled back, afraid I had pushed him too far, but I remembered what he had said. I only had to ask. “I want to touch you,” I whispered breathlessly.

Lachlan let go of me, reaching up over his head and pulling his shirt off in one swoop. He held his arms out, palms up, as his eyes stayed on me. I stepped up to him, my fingers brushing along his arm until I got to his shoulders, sliding my hands down his chest. Lachlan took a slow, deep breath.

“Am I hurting you?” I asked. I pulled my hands away, but he grabbed my wrists, holding my hands against his chest.

“No. It feels so good.” He dipped his head down, capturing my lips, letting go of my wrists so he could hold me against him.

I allowed my hands to explore every part of his chest and stomach, pulling him in closer so I could run my fingertips down his back while he swept his tongue into my mouth again and again. I grew frantic with the kiss, getting lost in all of him, my fingers digging into the flesh of his hips.

Someone cleared their throat from behind me, and I clung to Lachlan, shielding him from whoever it was, a possessive emotion filling me. This was a side of him that was mine, I didn’t want anyone else to have it, I didn’t want to lose it. Lachlan chuckled, his chest vibrating beneath my ear.

“We should get to class. Coach will be wondering where we are,” Nolan said behind me. I relaxed and let go of Lachlan, so he could put his shirt on. “Sorry for interrupting.”

I bit my lip, unsure how he would react to me kissing another guy, but at this point, I should’ve known better. Nolan reached up and pressed on my chin until my lip was free. He lightly brushed my lip and smiled. “Even when swollen, they're still beautiful.”

Lachlan chuckled, and I looked away from the intensity of Nolan’s stare. My eyes fell to Lachlan’s chest and the tattoo above his heart. It was a black-and-white tattoo of two dandelions, the wishing ones we used to pick as kids and blow our wishes to the wind. In the drawing, a few seeds were drifting away.

I raised my hand up to it, and he paused in putting on his shirt. “May I?”

“Yes.”

“When did you get it?” I asked, tracing over it with the tips of my fingers.

“Last summer. It was a promise to myself.”

“What promise?”

“That I would set myself free. That I would let go and make my own wishes come true.”

My brows pulled in, and I tilted my head to the side. “And the blood? Dripping down the stems?” It was the only part in color—a deep maroon.

He pulled his shirt on as I dropped my hand. “The blood I’ve spilled, the blood I'm willing to spill, for those wishes to come true.”

“I brought your backpacks,” Nolan said. He seemed unphased by Lachlan’s tattoo. “I wasn’t sure if you needed help calming down.”

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