Page 104 of Racking Up Penalties
“Go team,” I mumble, my voice muffled by Ethan’s skin, a feeble attempt at matching Liam’s fervor.
“You got it,” Tristan murmurs from behind me, his voice still thick with sleep, but supportive as always. He squeezes my shoulder.
Liam strides toward me with purpose, the fabric of his jersey clutched in his hand.
“Remember you promised to wear this today?” His gray eyes twinkle with expectation, a playful edge to his voice that I can’t help but respond to with a smile.
“Right, your jersey,” I say, still groggy from sleep.
“Can’t have our good luck charm not properly attired,” he teases, draping the jersey across my body.
Before I can reply, Ethan’s hand lands on my shoulder, a gentle pressure that commands attention. “Why should she wear yours?” he begins, his intense brown eyes locking onto mine, a challenge brewing within their depths. “I was thinking Tessa should wear mine instead.”
His jealousy isn’t lost on me; it tugs at something deep within, a fierce possessiveness that both thrills and terrifies me.
“Your jersey?” I repeat, glancing between them, the weight of the decision pressing down on me.
“Yeah,” Ethan says, his gaze never leaving mine. “If not this time then next time.”
But I don’t want to choose between my guys every game.
Ethan brushes his thumb against the nape of my neck in a tender gesture that sends warmth flooding through me.
“Wait,” I say, my voice steadying as the idea takes root. “What if I didn’t have to choose? What if I could wear both?”
Ethan and Liam fall silent, their eyes meeting mine with matching expressions of curiosity. The tension that hung heavy in the air begins to dissipate like a cloud blown apart by a gentle breeze.
“How?” Ethan asks, his competitive edge softening into genuine interest. He’s always had this knack for strategy, for finding ways to turn the game on its head.
“I’m a fashion major! I was made for this!” My exuberance is back, the solution blossoming in my mind as clear as day. “I could take two of your jerseys and combine them into one. That way, I’m not just rooting for one of you—I’m rooting for both, equally.”
Liam’s gray eyes light up, the playful spark within igniting at the thought, a testament to his adaptability. “That’s actually kind of brilliant, Tess.”
“Really?” I ask, the excitement bubbling within me as I see approval dawning on their faces.
“Let’s do it,” Ethan agrees, and their eagerness fuels my own. They move together, a fluid dance of brotherhood as they head to their respective closets.
Liam has to go back to his room but I watch as Ethan rummages through piles of clothes.
“Here’s one,” Ethan announces, pulling out a jersey from one of the earlier games this season.
“Got one too,” Liam says, coming back in the room and holding up another jersey, this one with a small tear near the hem.
“Perfect.” My heart swells, and the pieces of our puzzle start falling into place. They hand me the jerseys, their pasts, trusting me to weave them into our present, into something new and uniquely ours.
“We’ll need to cut them first, then sew them together,” I muse aloud, already envisioning the result.
“Sounds like a plan.” Liam grins, tossing his jersey onto the bed.
“Can’t wait to see what you come up with,” Ethan adds, his brown eyes reflecting a pride that he tries to play down but can’t quite hide.
Clutching the fabric of potential in my hands, I step out of Ethan’s room, a bubbling excitement kindling within me. The jerseys, worn and bearing the marks of countless victories and defeats, are now mine to transform. “I’ll make sure these are ready for the game,” I promise, turning back to flash a grin at Ethan and Liam. Their nods are filled with a mixture of anticipation and trust.
“Hey, Tessa,” Tristan calls out, his voice trailing down the hallway as I make my way toward the exit. His deep blue eyes meet mine, gleaming with an earnest desire to be included. “Mind if I tag along? I’d love to help you with the jersey.”
“Sure,” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady, despite the whirlwind of emotions his presence stirs within me. “I would love that.”
We leave the guys behind, their banter fading into the background. Tristan falls into step beside me, his proximity both calming and electric. There’s a harmony in our strides.
