Page 13 of Keep Me Never
For some reason, I have to force my feet to move, and the closer I get, the more I see.
The yellow ribbon in her hair isn’t just a pale-yellow ribbon; it’s decorated with mini blue footballs, both colors identical to the ones spelling outAU Footballon the hoodie I’m wearing.
I make it about a yard from her when her head snaps up.
“Hey.” She smiles.
My eyes fall to her cheek, the football that Cameron no doubt painted on it staring back at me, the number thirteen written in dark-blue paint, golden glitter all around it. Frowning, I just keep staring at the number.
Mynumber.
She’s got my number directly on her skin.
“Oh.” Her hand flies up, hiding my number from me, and my gaze lifts to hers. “I’m sorry. Cam convinced me it would be fine because you didn’t seem to mind when I wore the shirt she made me last season with your number, and since Payton was wearing Mason’s, and Cam was wearing Brady’s, I just thought someone should… I mean, that I would cheer for you and?—”
I don’t realize I’ve reached out until the warmth of her handmeets the underside of my palm. My fingers wrap around hers, and her mouth snaps shut. I feel her gaze burning into me while mine goes back to her cheek. Slowly, I meet her eyes again.
“I like it,” I find myself admitting, realizing that I do. Maybe more than I should, considering her explanation.
Did she only wear it so I wouldn’t be left out?
Because it’s obvious, even to her, the technical outsider of our friend group being as she only met us all here at college, that they’re all coupled up and it’s just me now, on my own.
She’s on her own too, my man.
I tense at the thought.
But is she? I’ve never heard much about her dating, but what do I know?
She disappears a lot, has a lot of dinners and meetings she goes to. Maybe some of those are dates.
“Are you sure?” she asks in a low tone I almost can’t hear over the noise. “Because you glared at it for a whole thirty seconds when you saw it and you’re glaring again now.”
“Brady said you were wearing someone else’s number.” The words escape before I realize I’ve said them. I open my mouth to add some excuse, so I don’t sound so…I don’t know, foolish? Pleased? But Paige’s cheeks seem to turn a darker shade of pink and now I’m staring at them for a whole new reason.
A blush.
Heat, swift and satisfying and admittedly surprising, spreads through me.
“Uh.” I look down, realize I’m still holding her fingers, and quickly release them, running my hand through my still-damp, freshly showered hair.
She draws her hand to her lap, folding it together with her other one. “You played well tonight.”
Pride sweeps in at her words, but I quickly push it away. “Thank you.”
She nods, and an awkward silence falls over us. I wish I knewhow to make it go away, but I don’t know what to say. This is all a little strange.
She glances behind me and I know she’s looking for an escape, so I move aside, giving her a pass to walk away.
“Seems like everyone is filing out. I think most are going to the football house to celebrate.”
She nods and grips the tailgate, scooting herself all the way to the edge. I can’t help but smile when she has to jump, her feet are so far from the ground, and my truck isn’t even lifted.
She catches my grin, and her eyes narrow a bit, but I think it’s playful and I can’t help but turn my body so it’s facing hers again.
“What?” she finally asks.
“Nothing, Shortcake.” I fail at fighting the chuckle that escapes.
