Page 53 of Teach Me How

But today, all I can think about is Reese and that damn jersey she decided to wear.

The jersey, by itself, isn’t to blame. It’s got to be an extra, extra large because the sleeves nearly hit her elbows and the hem skims her ass. But therein lies the problem, because underneath that oversized jersey, she is wearing extremely short shorts. Invisible shorts that make it seem like she’s wearing the jersey and nothing else. She’s got on sporty sneakers and her dark hair is twisted in a bun on top of her head. All in all, she is looking very cute. Very preppy. And very tempting.

She’s oblivious to how sexy she looks. But everyone else has noticed. I’ve lost count of the number of horny men I’ve caught staring at her bare legs. Holding her hand, fingers intertwined, hasn’t been enough to stake my claim. They’re still looking.

Giving up on sending a message, I elect to hold on tight instead. Putting my arm around her, I walk her through the stadium entrance. We weave our way up the stairs, listening to the sound of the crowd grow, and then we step out into the blinding light. All across the stadium, people are flowing in, turning the stands red and white with Husker gear.

I lead her to our seats, watching her lift up on her tiptoes so she can take in the stadium. She looks over at me with a broad grin on her face.

I wonder if it would be too early to plant a kiss on those lips. “Did you go to many games when you were in college?”

Her smile slips. “A few. Not too many. None of my friends were into football.”

There’s a sour note to the way she says the word friends. As long as I’ve known Reese, she’s been a football fan. She hollers at the screen right alongside the best of us. It surprises me to know that a Husker fan like Reese would have passed on something she loved when it was literally two blocks from her dormitory.

I sense her mood is taking a dive and I’m sorry that I brought it up. My hand slips out automatically and I reel her in. She leans against me, her hand planted on my chest. Only the thin cotton from my t-shirt separates us and I’m starting to think maybe taking Reese somewhere else, somewhere more private, would be more fun.

I sneak a glance over her shoulder, tugging the jersey up to reveal her ass.

She squawks, batting my hand away.

I chuckle. “Just checking to make sure you have pants on.”

“I do. Obviously.”

I shake my head, grinning at her. “No. Not obviously. Barely.”

She glowers at me, but there’s a twinkle in her eye. “These are the standard issue jean shorts, thank you very much.”

“If you say so, but that is not a standard issue ass, and those poor shorts are doing everything they can to keep up with you.”

She whacks my arm. “Are you calling me chubby?”

“I’m saying they’re sexy. Too sexy. I’m going to have to beat off these rabid fans.”

“I guess I better stay close to you, then.”

“That’s a good plan.” I pull her closer, sliding my hand into her back pocket.

She does look hot, and I’ve got the semi to prove it. But I wasn’t kidding when I said these fans can get a little rabid. ‘Nebraska Nice’ is only in effect when we win. If we lose, lord knows what these fans are liable to do.

And when you’re looking like a sexy little snack like Reese is, you’re liable to attract trouble.

35.

Reese

We lost.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise. We’ve been on a losing streak for years now. But every year, every game, Husker fans convince themselves this is going to be the turning point.

It’s heartbreak on a platter.

Skyler loves Husker football, but he’s a grownup and doesn’t let disappointment over agameaffect his behavior. Wish I could say that for the rest of these knuckleheads.

We probably should have gone home like Skyler suggested, but I was so caught up in the game, I forgot all about his dating lesson.

We tried to find a quiet bar to finish out our date, but downtown is crawling with sad, drunk Husker fans. Eventually, we give up, picking a place in the Rail Yard that seems the least combustible.

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