Page 93 of Fear of Falling

Damn.

I looked him up and down, admiring how he looked in just a simple pair of jeans and shirt matching the rest of the crowds. The way he returned the gesture made me feel hot all over, flashes of us the other day sprung to mind.

Not sure I’ll ever be able to look at him without feeling like I’m going to spontaneously combust.

“Hey,” I greeted as soon as he was within earshot.

“Hey, you.”

I love how he greets me like that.

He’d barely come to a stop before his hands grabbed my waist, pulling me against his chest. I tilted my head back just in time to meet his lips, the bill of his hat hit my forehead, but I didn’t care.

It was like a part of me relaxed whenever I was with him. Like I could let my guard down.

“I’m glad you came,” he murmured against my lips. He kissed me twice before pulling away. “Ready to see some kick-ass football?”

I nodded, swallowing thickly as my nerves flared again.

“Hey,” Wyatt reached for my hand. “They’re going to love you. Trust me.” He gave me a reassuring smile and squeezed my hand. Grateful for the assurance, I squeezed his hand back and followed him through the crowd.

“Didn’t know so many people would be here,” I said after a moment, pressing into his side as a few people shoved past us. Wyatt kept a firm grip on my hand.

“They bring quite a crowd when they play. The team has only lost one game all season, which is a record for the school,” Wyatt explained.

Suddenly, I felt a shock of recognition as the colors of those around us sunk in.

As we made our way through security and into the stadium it clicked.

How did I not put two and two together?

If anything, I should be ashamed that I hadn’t realized before now.

Wyatt led us through the crowds to our seats, his enormous frame acting like a buffer between us and the crowd. I shouldn’t have been surprised that our seats were mere feet away from where the players would be.

My grip on his hand tightened as we came to our row. I glanced across at the two occupied seats, my mouth running dry as I assumed they were Wyatt’s mom and brother. Instantly my palms started sweating again.

Why the hell am I so nervous? They’re just people. I talk to people all the time for work. You can do this Josie. Just be yourself.

“Hey guys,” he greeted. The woman got to her feet, her smile wide and friendly.

“You made it!”

There was no question the woman before me was Wyatt’s mom. Her hair was brown just like his and came down to her chin in a stylish bob. It was a little crazy how similar she looked like her son—the same cheek bones, same smile.

His mom pulled him into a hug, but Wyatt kept his hand wrapped in mine as if he knew I needed the contact.

“Mom, this is Josie. Josie, this is my mom, Evelyn,” Wyatt introduced us, moving to the side so his mom could see me.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Josie.”

My hand dropped Wyatt’s as his mom pulled me into a hug. I stood there stiffly for a second before hugging her back.

“Nice to meet you, too.”

“I’m so glad you could make it.” She pulled back with a wide grin, squeezing my arms before stepping back.

Evelyn shuffled to the side as Wyatt’s brother stepped forward. Just like with Wyatt, I had to crane my neck to see his face. Though he was a tad shorter than Wyatt, with blond hair and greenish/blue eyes. The beard he wore made him look older, but in an attractive way. The two brothers may have had different hair colors, but the physical resemblance between the two of them was evident.

---