Page 87 of Shutout
“Oh my word, put me down. Everyone’s watching!”
They can watch a bit longer. Like a damn creep, I inhale her rich vanilla scent until it filters through my lungs and into my bloodstream. Slowly, painstakingly, I lower her down to her feet, making sure her body slides down my entire frame. The jersey and the sweatshirt she wears underneath catch against me, and I’m not even apologetic that my hands land on her hips right on top of her leggings. Liv’s eyes are wide as she looks up at me.
The corner of my lips rises a notch. “Did you see that?”
“Um.” She blinks fast. “You barreling down to pick me up like a toddler in front of basically the whole school?”
“No.” I snort. “We won by shutout.”
“Oh, that. Yes, I saw it.” She shifts until she frees her arms from my grip and places her hands against my chest, where she can probably feel my heart racing faster than I did to find her. Her eyes lower to a spot on my throat. “You played really well. Like, professional-level well. Which I guess is more than really well. You were amazing.”
I grin so hard that my face hurts. “Why, thank you. Shall we celebrate with pasta?”
“Sure.” Liv shrugs out of my hold to pick up her fallen coat and put it on.
I have a feeling like she won’t let me grab her hand on the way out, but I don’t let her walk too far. When she tries to get in her car, I grab her by the back of her coat and steer her all the way to the passenger seat of my Jeep Gladiator.
“Did you like the game?” I ask her during the short drive between the arena and Romano’s downtown.
“Like is a stretch.” She’s looking outside the window as she speaks. “But thanks for not giving me a heart attack this time.”
I bite down a grin. “You’re most welcome. I totally didn’t get slashed, hooked, checked, or punched because I knew you were watching.”
Liv turns to give me a fierce little glare. I fantasize with grabbing her chin and pulling her in for a quick kiss, and she’s only spared because the light’s still green.
Even though parking downtown on a Friday night is a pain in the ass, we strut right in to Romano’s where a table is already waiting for us. It was the lesser reason why I was in a hurry, to not lose the reservation.
The main reason is across from me. She hangs her coat on the back of the chair and squeezes between it and the table to sit. Then, knowing full well that I’m the size of a mountain, she pulls the table toward her from under the mantle. It gives me enough room to sit down. My knee bumps against her legs before I spread my thighs wider so hers can be comfortable between mine.
Not the first time we do this dance, but the first I realize how perfect we fit.
“Ciao, bambino,” Max’s mom says next to our table, or more like screams. She turns to Liv. “Your usual pizza or the pasta?”
“Pasta this time, thanks. How’s the family doing?” For the first time, Liv smiles a little.
Huh. Why am I only noticing just now?
“Messy as usual.” The older woman looks at me. “And you?”
“The lasagna, please.”
“Double?”
I grin. “Of course.”
The woman turns over her shoulder and yells. “One order of the gluten free garlic knots!”
Liv and I cringe at the extreme volume of Mrs. Cassiano’s voice, and as the matriarch moves onto the next table, my-date-who-doesn’t-know-she’s-my-date and I have a chuckle.
But then Liv’s expression falls again, and I don’t know if it’s the dimmer lighting in the restaurant, but her eyes seem puffy.
My eyebrows bunch in the middle. “Hey, is there something wrong?”
Her brown eyes snap up to mine. “What? No. Everything’s perfect. What did you want to talk about, by the way?”
I know she’s deflecting, but I can definitely pivot to this other topic and come back to get the reason she’s feeling off out of her later, right when she thinks I forgot about it.
Folding my arms, I lean on the table so I’m closer to her and have to scream less in the noise. “So, you know how every year the team puts out this event to get money out of the boosters and sponsors, right?”
