Page 51
Story: The Comeback Pact
“I have some ideas.”
She bites her lip, moving her gaze to mine. “Me too.”
For the love of God, I hope we’re on the same goddamn page. I step away, fingering the material of my jersey that’s currently hugging her body. She’s rolled up the bottom, but it’s starting to come undone with the way we were wrapped around each other. The sight of her wearing my number makes my breath hitch. If this is the feeling I was missing out on when no one else supported me, it was well worth the fucking wait. I’ll take all the disappointments from before to have this one moment.
“I need to go,” I finally tell her, reluctantly. The last blue jersey is already halfway toward the locker rooms. Coach will be wanting me.
“I know.”
Squeezing her hand, I linger a little longer, “I have to ride the bus home.”
“Okay.”
“But can I see you tonight? I’ll text you.”
“Yeah…yes.” She shakes her head at herself. She’s so damn cute, but if I don’t go now, I won’t.
I grip her hand one last time and lead her toward the gate in the fence. She frowns when I undo the latch. “You mean I could’ve just come in the easy way?”
“That was the easy way.”
A blush starts up her neck and settles in her cheeks. “If you say so.”
“Tonight,” I tell her as I close the gate behind her.
“Yeah,” she says, still not walking away. I’m one hundred percent certain we look like fools right now, but I can’t stop myself.
“Okay.” I back up, still hesitant to leave, but in the back of my head, I don’t want to face Coach’s fury either. I give her one last smirk before turning away.
“Oh, West,” she calls out.
I peer over my shoulder to find her gripping the hem of my jersey.
“Do you want this?”
I run back toward her and realize I was about to leave my helmet out there, too. I’m flustered, but there’s one thing I won’t have happen. I grip the fence and stare her down. “Don’t you dare take that off.”
My words make her blush red again. “Ever?”
“Ever.”
“Is this some sort of claiming?” she asks, tilting her head at me with a bemused expression.
“If I say yes, will you still wear it?”
“Probably.”
“Then yes.”
She chuckles, and I really have to go now. Coach is probably already cooking up some torture in his head for my absence. I run over to my helmet to pick it off the ground and then jog backward. “Tonight.”
Sydney rolls her eyes as she approaches Kenna and practically peels her away from the gate. “I can already tell this is going to be sickening.”
Kenna leans into her, and I make myself turn and jog toward the locker room. People are still waiting at the fence, and I run by, high-fiving them.
I barely hear their congratulations. I feel like I can do anything at the moment. This excitement is so pure and raw. It was like the first time I took the field at peewee, except more acute.
“Hey!” a voice yells.
She bites her lip, moving her gaze to mine. “Me too.”
For the love of God, I hope we’re on the same goddamn page. I step away, fingering the material of my jersey that’s currently hugging her body. She’s rolled up the bottom, but it’s starting to come undone with the way we were wrapped around each other. The sight of her wearing my number makes my breath hitch. If this is the feeling I was missing out on when no one else supported me, it was well worth the fucking wait. I’ll take all the disappointments from before to have this one moment.
“I need to go,” I finally tell her, reluctantly. The last blue jersey is already halfway toward the locker rooms. Coach will be wanting me.
“I know.”
Squeezing her hand, I linger a little longer, “I have to ride the bus home.”
“Okay.”
“But can I see you tonight? I’ll text you.”
“Yeah…yes.” She shakes her head at herself. She’s so damn cute, but if I don’t go now, I won’t.
I grip her hand one last time and lead her toward the gate in the fence. She frowns when I undo the latch. “You mean I could’ve just come in the easy way?”
“That was the easy way.”
A blush starts up her neck and settles in her cheeks. “If you say so.”
“Tonight,” I tell her as I close the gate behind her.
“Yeah,” she says, still not walking away. I’m one hundred percent certain we look like fools right now, but I can’t stop myself.
“Okay.” I back up, still hesitant to leave, but in the back of my head, I don’t want to face Coach’s fury either. I give her one last smirk before turning away.
“Oh, West,” she calls out.
I peer over my shoulder to find her gripping the hem of my jersey.
“Do you want this?”
I run back toward her and realize I was about to leave my helmet out there, too. I’m flustered, but there’s one thing I won’t have happen. I grip the fence and stare her down. “Don’t you dare take that off.”
My words make her blush red again. “Ever?”
“Ever.”
“Is this some sort of claiming?” she asks, tilting her head at me with a bemused expression.
“If I say yes, will you still wear it?”
“Probably.”
“Then yes.”
She chuckles, and I really have to go now. Coach is probably already cooking up some torture in his head for my absence. I run over to my helmet to pick it off the ground and then jog backward. “Tonight.”
Sydney rolls her eyes as she approaches Kenna and practically peels her away from the gate. “I can already tell this is going to be sickening.”
Kenna leans into her, and I make myself turn and jog toward the locker room. People are still waiting at the fence, and I run by, high-fiving them.
I barely hear their congratulations. I feel like I can do anything at the moment. This excitement is so pure and raw. It was like the first time I took the field at peewee, except more acute.
“Hey!” a voice yells.
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