Page 15 of The Wrong Game

But before the nerves could take over, I closed my eyes and reminded myself.

It’snota date. It’s a football game.

I am in control.

I pulled out my phone to text Zach, but before my fingers could touch down on the keys, Belle’s face lit up my screen. I slid the button at the bottom to answer her call, smiling.

“How’s your pussy?”

“Oh, my God, Belle.”

“Still empty? What time does the game end again?”

“It hasn’t even started. I just got here.”

“Oh, how does he look? What’s he wearing? Oh, my God, are you freaking out?”

I blew out a breath. “I wasn’t, until you called.”

“Is he with you?”

“I’m trying to find him now. Which means I have to go.”

“Just text him while you’re on the phone with me.”

“GOODBYE, BELLE.”

I hung up before she could protest, smiling and shaking my head. Then, I shot out a text to Zach to meet me in front of the Big Beaver Totem Pole at the north entrance.

As I made my way through the tailgating tents, I felt that excitement buzzing to life again. I’d been to so many Bears games, I couldn’t count them all — but this was my first year having season passes. My grandfather had season passes when he was younger, and he would bring me every now and then, letting me hang with him and his war buddies as they tailgated before the game. I wanted to tailgate, too. I wanted to start traditions, to build memories tied around football season.

I was supposed to do just that, with Carlo.

I bought the tickets before I found out about his affair, before I found out about his illness. In my mind, I pictured us buying a tent and chairs, a long table to play games on, a portable grill. I saw our friends tailgating with us, imagined us high-fiving the other season pass holders around us every time we scored — just the way my grandfather had.

It was supposed to be ours — this day, these tickets, these memories. He’d been all I could think about when I envisioned the Bears season, and I thought I was all he could think about, too.

Now, I knew he wasn’t even thinking of me at all.

He was too busy thinking abouther.

When I reached the totem, I briefly debated leaving. I hadn’t even walked inside the stadium and already, I couldn’t stop thinking about Carlo.

I wasn’t ready for this.

But I didn’t have the chance to change my mind.

“Wow.”

A whistle rang out, and when I turned around, it was Zach. His brows were all the way up in his hairline as he took in my tiny, ripped-up jean shorts and Chicago Bears tank top. I felt his gaze like it was a fire thrower, warming my skin from my ankles all the way back up to my cheeks.

“I hope our seats aren’t too close, because there’s no way those players are going to be able to focus on the ball if you’re in viewing range.”

“That usually works for you, doesn’t it?” I volleyed, stepping closer. The breeze picked up his cologne, and it mixed with the smell of grilling and turf, wafting up the most intoxicating scent.

He chuckled, hands slipping into the pockets of his shorts. His dark hair was styled with a bit of gel, not quite as unruly as it had been at the bar. I couldn’t decide which look I liked more.

“Usually, yes. How did it do for you?”