Page 44 of Home Field Advantage

“You haven’t played hard to get for a minute, and neither have I,” she points out. “Which is really twisted, because Hard to Get is literally my favorite game, after Seven Minutes in Heaven.”

I cup her cheek in my rough, calloused palm, then climb onto the bed with her. “I fucking love that you haven’t. Why waste all that time when we could be doing this instead?” Then I kiss her so deeply, the heat liquefies my bones.

We may not know exactly what we are, and we may not be going anywhere, but where we are right at this moment is so. Damn. Good.

Unfortunately, as I wash up the next morning, being careful not to get any toothpaste on the pajamas I slept in and apparently get to wear to school today, I’m still thinking about everything I didn’t say the night before. I can’t shake the idea of walking into homecoming with her on my arm, of actuallygoingto homecoming, looking dashing as fuck in a suit while Amber blows my goddamn mind in something that shows off Those Legs.

I dareanyoneto give me shit then, especially coming off a win, which we will be.

“Who was that girl who dropped you off last night?”

I’m so used to silence in the morning that the sound of my mom actually speaking to me when I emerge from the bathroom instead of sitting on the couch and staring out the window like she’s waiting for her husband to come back from war makes me jump ten feet. But yup, there she is, sitting at the kitchen counter in front of a plate of bacon and eggs, a matching one sitting in front of the empty barstool next to her. Her phone is propped up on a charger—she’s FaceTiming with my brothers and dad while they all eat, and they can hear every word.

I should’ve known there’d be no having privacy in this place, ever.

“Just some girl from school,” I mutter as I join them, because that’s all I get to say. This is not an opening to introduce my girlfriend to my family.

It could be.

But it isn’t.

But it could be.

God damn it.

Why do I want this so badly? Is it about her? Or about me? Because I was perfectly happy keeping things on the DL until we had that fucking date—which washeridea, by the way—and now all I can think about is how much fun we could have out in the open.

Who thinks,Hey, I’d really like to change up this routine I have of sneaking around with my hot girlfriend so we can get pizza or see a movie together?

“She hot?” Jeremy asks, then cracks up when Jason makes a face.

“No way,” Jason declares. “I bet she’s butt.”

“Bet she’s hotter than your last girlfriend,” Jeremy shoots back, obviously not realizing he’s somehow sort of defending me. “You should ask Jack to introduce you.”

“Oh yeah, because that’s every high school cheerleader’s dream—to hook up with a thirteen-year-old shrimp.” They’re both being total dicks, but I’m just so happy they’re finallytalking to me that I let it slide. Of course, that doesn’t mean I have to be nice.

“As opposed to a sixteen-year-old lady beast?”

“Oh fu—”

“Hey!” Mama snaps. “All y’all, hush up and eat or tomorrow I’m telling Daddy to give you oatmeal.”

That shuts the twins up good, being as they’ve both compared oatmeal to baby vomit on multiple occasions.

“And Jack?”

“Yeah, Mama?”

“I assume that girl was a study buddy and not a distraction from your schoolwork or football.”

Well, I definitely studiedsomethingat her house last night. “Yep, Mama. She’s in my English class. We’re readingThe Great Gatsby.” All that is true, at least. And I even finished the book, thanks to a long bus ride back from last Friday’s game during which—as usual—no one said a word to me.

“Good. You know the deal.”

“I do.” Thank God she doesn’t say it out loud yet again. I’ve heard “If you’re not getting an athletic scholarship for this, you’d better be keeping your grades up” more times than I can count. Like I need a reminder that there’s probably no future for me in the only thing I love.

It drives me nuts that of all the sports to give myself to, I chose one that barely exists for girls at the collegiate level. And, sure, I could dream of being the next Toni Harris, but even inthe impossible version of the universe where I got a scholarship to play football, what are the chances someone’s gonna let me on to a college team as a QB?

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