Page 28 of Adorkable

With a gulp, I peered around him. “Yes.”

“Good.”

My heart beat triple-time as Becks leaned even closer, eyes on mine. I started slightly at the feel of his hand on my jaw, struggling for breath as it slid to my cheek, fingers finally coming to rest at the base of my neck. Ducking, he placed a lingering kiss on the spot right below my ear. The move made my hand shoot out to grip his jersey. Becks laughed silently, little puffs of air hitting my neck, as I shivered.

I could hear the grin in his voice as he said, “You know, Sal, you can’t jump every time I touch you. What will people think?”

It took me two tries, but I eventually managed a breathless, “S-sorry.”

“Practice at my house tomorrow. Ten sharp,” he said as the whistle blew.

“Practice?” I said still dazed. “What—”

“Becks,” Crenshaw bellowed from the other side of the bench, “stop making eyes at your girlfriend, and get your butt back in the game.”

“Ten,” Becks said again, running backwards. “Don’t be late.”

I tried to snap out of it, giving my head a shake. All that did was muddle my thoughts even further. When I looked up at Hooker, she gave an exaggerated yawn, like the kiss had been nothing at all. Unimpressive, her eyes said, and when I got back to my seat, her words echoed the sentiment.

“It’s going to take a lot more than some dry peck to convince me,” she grumbled.

I gaped at her. Dry peck? What was she talking about? Granted, I wasn’t an expert—that kiss had been the extent of my romantic experience—but it’d turned my insides to mush. My skin still felt unnaturally hot where Becks’s mouth had been. I couldn’t forget the feel of his breath against my skin. Hooker was a lot more experienced than me, but that didn’t mean she was blind. Couldn’t she see how affected I was?

Glancing over at me, she shrugged. “Okay, okay. It was kind of hot, but Spitz, howcanit be with Becks? You guys have been friends forever. It’s almost like if me and you started going out.”

“Hooker, no offense or anything,” I said, “but you’re not my type.”

“None taken,” she said back. “But really, you know everything about him. He knows everything about you. There’s no mystery.”

I flushed. “He doesn’t know everything about me.”

“Oh yeah? Name one thing he doesn’t know about you?”

The same thing you don’t, I thought but kept my mouth firmly shut.

“Exactly,” she said like she’d proven her point, and we sat back to watch the second half.

I tried to take good notes, recorded the plays as best I could, cross-referencing my list of terms, but it was useless. The butterflies in my stomach were relentless. No matter how much I tried to squash them, the darn things just wouldn’t die. Instead of watching the game, I kept replaying the kiss over and over. My hand would wander to the spot under my ear when I wasn’t looking, and I’d have to jerk it away before Hooker saw what a loser I was. The Trojans ended up winning five to two, with Becks scoring three out of the five goals and assisting Ash Stryker with the last goal, an at the buzzer header. I didn’t even need my cheat sheet for that one.

As the team headed for the lockers, I followed, trying not to feel awkward.

Becks and I had never been weird around each other before. Not even after I’d told him about my secret life-long crush on Lucius Malfoy from theHarry Potterseries. That hair, the voice, that whole uptight baddie/aristocrat thing... It was embarrassing, but the guy was just yum. This couldn’t be any bigger than that, could it?

Yeah, right, I thought, hanging back. This was so much bigger than my Lucius confession. This wasn’t some fantasy; it was real life. The butterflies running amok in my insides could attest to that fact.

“You catch that last one, Spitz, or were you too busy staring at Mr. Wonderful?”

Grateful for the distraction, I pulled out my inner Southern Belle. “Well, goodness gracious sakes alive. IstheAsh Stryker, aka The Whip, speaking to little ol’ me?”

“Funny,” Ash said. “So did you see it or what?”

“Yeah, I saw. I always knew you had a hard head, Ash. Thanks for the proof.”

He scoffed.

We were getting closer and closer to Becks, so I decided to quit teasing. “Can I get a comment? That was a pretty sweet play.”

He came to a sudden stop. “Prettysweet?”

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