Page 31 of The Game Plan

The smile she sends me is radiant. “Never better.”

She rests her head on my shoulder again.

I wish I could say I know what’s going on in the movie. I spend most of the evening watching her instead. She has a small mole beneath her left eyebrow. There are clusters of freckles dotting her cheeks, no doubt from spending so much time in the sun. She’s fully made up. I’ve never seen her this done up before. I like it, yes, but I like her just as much when she’s fresh-faced straight from practice.

I just like her, period.

She falls asleep about halfway through the movie. I shift, letting her fall against my chest, so I’m carrying more of her weight. The better to support her, I rationalize. I’m pathetic. I give up pretending to watch the movie. I’d rather watch her.

As the credits roll, I come back to myself to find the other guys whispering. No doubt about us, I roll my eyes, and then shame rolls through me. There is no “us.”

“You guys look cozy,” Barrett says, his eyes bright with amusement.

“Fuck you.”

She stirs and then settles again. Her arm comes up to hug my leg. I go stock still, even as another piece of my anatomy reacts instinctively.

I shake her shoulder. She lets out a low whine deep in her throat that goes straight to my cock.

“Sam. It’s time to wake up.”

“No.” She snuggles into me further. “I don’t want to get up.”

“Sam.”

She groans, slowly blinking open her eyes. “It’s not morning yet.”

A laugh bubbles up in my throat. “No, it’s still night time.”

She burrows into the blanket. Into me. “I’m so warm and cozy. I don’t want to get up.”

“You can stay here tonight,” Barrett offers. “In case you don’t want to make the trek back home.”

I glare at him. What’s he playing at?

“No, I should go home. It’s only two houses down.”

“You can stay as long as you like,” Tucker adds.

She stretches and yawns. “Maybe next time we can have a slumber party,” she says, grinning.

My cock likes that idea a little too much. I choke at the sudden burst of arousal flooding my veins and she turns to look at me.

“What? You’re not a fan of sleepovers?”

“It’s getting late,” I say instead. “Let me walk you home.”

She gets her shoes on, and I fold up the blanket. It smells like her perfume now. I’m never washing it again.

It’s wet and slick outside. The snow is coming down harder now. Sam skids and grabs onto my arm for balance. It feels so natural to wrap my arm around her, bringing her into me as we make the treacherous walk all one hundred and fifty feet to her house.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” she says when we reach her front porch.

“Me, too.”

“I’m glad you invited me over. We should do it again sometime.”

She’s smiling up at me, standing much too close. Do I kiss her? I want to kiss her.

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