Page 75 of Show Me

“Sure.” I pressed up onto my toes and smeared a clumsy kiss along his jaw before Sam caught me by the elbows to keep me steady. I’d never met another guy’s parents before. I mean, on purpose. There’d been a few unfortunate morning-after meetings in my past, which had not been my finest hour. But despite the nervous butterflies that erupted in my stomach over the prospect, Sam’s resulting smile made me decide I’d chosen the correct response.

He let me go. “I’m gonna be late. See you in statistics, yeah?”

28

Jesse

The game was tied at the half, and when the third quarter started, I was on the edge of my seat.

“Watching this live is twenty times more stressful than watching it on TV,” I complained.

Mark chuckled. “What you meant to say was, ‘watching this live is twenty times moreawesomethan watching it on TV.’ Look at these fucking seats! I can see the edges of the jockstraps beneath the tights!”

Chet smacked him lightly on the back of the head. “Watch it.”

Mark wasn’t wrong, though. I should’ve been enjoying it. Or, at least enjoying the visuals, because Sam dressed out in his football gear made my knees weak. He looked like he could eat me for breakfast. I wished hehadeaten me for breakfast, but he’d had to be at the stadium early. Every down, every tackle, every time someone raced toward him or vice versa, I broke out in a fresh wave of nervous sweat, afraid he was going to injure his shoulder again. I could tell it was bothering him by the way he was leading with the other one, but he was doing his best to play it down so he could stay on the field.

A whooshing cheer went up as Sam scored a first down, racing toward the goal line with the ball tucked under his arm. He looked big and powerful, a tree I wanted to climb and make a fort in and never leave. Everyone around me rose from their seats, and I joined, whooping and hollering until the opposing defense swarmed Sam, trying to keep him from scoring.

The din died down with a hush as the ref blew his whistle, and the players untangled themselves, leaving behind a single guy who didn’t move.

My heart shot into my throat as I stood on my tiptoes trying to see, but I was too fucking short. I caught a glimpse of the U’s colors, though, and my heart reversed course and plummeted from my throat to my toes.

“Hey.” Nate squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. “It’s not him.”

“You sure?”

He nodded. “It’s Mischka. Looks like a broken ankle.”

“God.” I exhaled a long breath. I didn’t know who Mischka was and didn’t care. He wasn’t Sam. That was all that mattered. “I need a tranquilizer to watch this shit.”

Nate chuckled and threw an arm around me. “Sam is big, quick, and sturdy as hell. He’s gonna be fine.”

“Yeah, I’m sure everyone says that until they’re laid out on the field with their tibia sticking out of their leg. Wait.” I swiveled toward Nate. “How did you…” I narrowed my eyes at Eric, though he was leaned over chatting with one of Sam’s brothers. “Eric sold me out.”

Everyone sat as Mischka was hauled off the field. The players milled around waiting on the refs. Sam glanced over in our direction and that alone made me catch my breath. A loopy smile curled on my lips.

Nate nudged me. “That right there; you’re selling yourself out. Eric only mentioned you had a crush on a baby bi. So does Sam know how stupid you are for him?”

“Sort of. I don’t know. We’re just keeping it casual and stuff.”

“Uh-huh. Casual works great until it doesn’t.” The knowing roll of Nate’s eyes flustered me.

“Plenty of people do casual long term and it’s just fine.” I didn’t sound remotely convincing.

“Uh-huh.”

“Shhh, I’m trying to concentrate.”

By the fourth quarter the U was leading by seven, and they shut out Southerland as the clock wound down for a solid Homecoming win.

I had to admit that even if it was nerve-racking being so close to the edge of the field, the rush of winning and the energetic charge of the crowd made me understand why people got addicted to this game. It also helped that Sam had made it through the game without getting hurt.

“C’mon,” Nate urged as people spilled onto the field. “Let’s go celebrate.”

I hesitated until he yanked me after him.

Sam’s family walked en masse toward where he stood talking to a reporter holding out his phone for Sam to speak into, and the anxious tickling feeling in my stomach started up all over again. His parents had gotten delayed when one of Sam’s sisters had broken her arm after falling off a piece of gym equipment right before they were about to leave. They’d gotten to their seats just before the anthem was sung. My introduction had been a brief wave and then a short conversation during half-time. They seemed really nice, but I really wanted to make a good impression and I was afraid I’d say or do something dumb. It had me on edge.