Page 68 of The Wrong Game

The stadium roared just as the Patriots called a time-out, and I high-fived Jordan, letting out awhoobefore I snatched my beer from the holder. I tilted it back, bouncing in my excitement.

“Aw, look,” Jordan said, pointing to the screen. “Kiss cam.”

I followed where he was pointing, and my chest tightened, my next breath barely squeezing through. An older couple blushed and laughed on the screen before leaning in for a sweet kiss, the entire stadium singing a collectiveawwtogether.

My eyes flicked to Zach, and like a magnet, I pulled his gaze from the screen to me, instead. He swallowed, and I watched the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, eyes bouncing up to look at his mouth next.

I could still feel that mouth on mine — that first night at my place, and perhaps even stronger at that next game, when he stole a kiss that should have belonged to Ben. I was so mad when he kissed me, but was Ireally?

We both knew the answer to that.

I wanted him to kiss me — that first night, that next game, Monday night.

Now.

I wanted him to kiss me. And I hated that I could never hide that from him.

Belle smacked Zach’s chest, snapping his attention away from me and back to her. She smiled, pointing up at the screen, and Zach and I both looked back up at it at the same time.

It was them.

Zach’s eyes were wide with shock, his mouth gaping open a little as Belle laughed, turning toward him with an adorable, expectant grin. The crowd cheered, and Zach looked off camera, but not at Belle.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen.

Because I knew he was looking at me.

Instead, I watched like I was somewhere else, like I was in a completely different state or country altogether as Zach ran the pad of his thumb over Belle’s cheek, and then he leaned in and kissed the spot his skin had just touched.

There was another chorus ofaww’s,but he did earn someboo’s, too, since it was just a kiss on the cheek. Still, Belle lit up like she’d never been kissed before, like she was a little girl with her first crush, and she leaned into him with the camera still on them, wrapping her arms around his waist as he tucked her under his arm.

And that’s when the thought hit me.

Maybe he liked her.

I hadn’t even considered it, but he had asked her here after all, right? Maybe, when I’d blown him off, he’d moved on. They had hung out all night at the bar on Monday, when I was with Andy and his friends. Maybe they bonded. Maybe they made a connection.

My stomach twisted, and I doubled over with the pain, covering my mouth as the possibility played out in my head. Jordan rubbed my back, asking if I was okay, and I nodded, sitting back up straight just as the guys lined up for the next play.

I didn’t breathe the rest of the quarter.

My eyes were on the field. I stood and cheered when appropriate, I groaned when the play didn’t go the way it should have, and though I couldn’t have told a single soul how it happened, we somehow got the touchdown by the time the whistle blew for halftime.

I cheered as our guys ran into the locker room, high-fiving Jordan and a few others around us, all the while using every cell in my brain just to take my next breath.

“Wow, this is such a great game!” Belle said. We were all still standing, and she hung her hands on her hips, turning her attention up to Zach. “I’m hungry. Let’s go get those hot dogs.”

“NO.”

The word flew out of my mouth on my next exhale, which was still coming painfully from my chest. Every breath was a struggle, my will to keep my cool fading fast.

I cleared my throat. “I mean, let the guys stay here. I’m hungry, too, and since I messed up my first hot dog, I’ll go with you.”

“Oh, okay,” Belle said, oblivious. She smiled, running her hand down Zach’s arm. “Want anything?”

“I’ll take another beer.”

“You got it.” She smiled, giving him a wink as she started for the aisleway. I followed, not asking Jordan if he wanted anything and not looking up at Zach when I squeezed past him, either.