You’re the greatest catch that I’ve ever made, Cheer. Touchdown at prom with me?
It was a promposal. He’d planned this entire thing for me, and I’d had no idea.
I was still staring at the ball, reading the words and semi-ignoring the fact that thousands of people were watching me. The sheer thought of that would have killed me once upon a time. But I no longer cared. I looked up just in time to see that Drayton had run across the field and was a few feet in front of me. As he swept me up, the ball slipped out of my hold and I wrapped myself around him, hooking my legs around his waist as he spun in a slow circle.
He held me up under the bum, the maroon in our uniforms blended together, and we kissed. I held his face, gripped his hair, and attempted not to let it go too far in front of all of the families that were there. Our lips parted and met again over and over. Closed mouth kisses. To keep it appropriate.
He leaned back and I was met with that green gaze that turned me inside out. “Is that a yes?”
I bit down on a smile and shrugged. “Sure.”
His grin widened, touching the corners of his eyes, and that laugh, it could melt butter. The crowd was applauding. There were congratulations and a lot of awws going on.
Coach Finn’s voice boomed through a megaphone. “All right, good job, lovebirds. Now let the girl go, Lahey. We’ve got a game to win.”
Drayton let me drop down in front of him. He loved his sport but I knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t mind disappearing right now. He began to back up, still holding one of my hands. “You look beautiful, Cheer.”
“Good luck tonight.”
He winked, and then he won.
After the game, there was a celebration at Maxon’s. Gabby was given a direct invitation from Maxon himself. She’d become closer with some of the team and their extended group thanks to her relationship with Josh. She could drink most of them under the table, and it appeared that they loved it.
“Dallas,” she called from her spot around a round glass table, low to the floor, where a bunch of people were sitting for a drinking game. “Come and join.”
I was perched in Drayton’s lap on a suede recliner. We’d come to the party out of obligation to the team, but both of us were eager to leave. “No, it’s all right,” I called back, raising my voice above the loud music. I didn’t want to join a game only to leave in the middle of it.
Maxon’s second-floor living room was an open space with a lot of seating, hardwood floors, and enormous windows that allowed a view of the town’s lights. That was one thing that I loved most about these elite houses—they had so much spare space that excessive windows weren’t even an issue. I loved a good view.
“Bro.” Maxon slapped Drayton on the shoulder as he circled the chair with a Bud Light in his hand. I wanted to tell him to get a real drink. “You’ve done us all wrong.”
Drayton’s thumb rubbed small circles on my hip. “What are you on about?”
“Becca’s been talking about the prom since we started school. Now I have to top that damn promposal.”
A couple of the guys who were close enough to hear agreed. Their complaints made me laugh. It was true that it would be a tough act to top, but that was Drayton. He was an extra-mile sort of person. A promposal hadn’t even occurred to me, but I wasn’t surprised that he’d gone all out. It gave me butterflies whenever I thought about it.
“You couldn’t top it if you tried,” Drayton scoffed, and I giggled at his “humble” attitude. He started to stand up, so I climbed off his lap and let him wrap his hand around mine. “We’re off. Good game tonight. I’m going to go home and do a victory lap.”
There was a series of laughter as he looked down at me with amusement. Idiot. He kissed my head and tugged the hood of his football jersey so that it bunched around the back of his neck. I did the same with mine. It was cold outside and we were bracing for the frostbitten air that would blast us the moment that we stepped outside.
We said our collective farewells. I knew that Josh and Gabby would be back at Drayton’s at some point that night.
“So what did you think of that surprise?” Drayton asked when were in the car. His headlights illuminated the dark road and he leaned over, holding my hand.
“I loved it. I didn’t see it coming. At all.”
He tipped his head back on the headrest as he kept watching the road, a devious grin lifting his mouth. “You’ll see me coming tonight.”
“Wow.”
In the morning, well, sort of morning—it was almost lunch-time—the four of us were sharing a booth at the diner. It was quiet. It smelled like onions and coffee. Outside, it was dark, the sky filled with grey clouds that threatened rainfall, and the diner lights felt bright and harsh against the gloomy backdrop. I stood at the counter while Kenzie scrawled down our order. “That was such a cute promposal last night,” she said, tearing off the order slip and sticking it to the magnetic strip
I smiled and watched with amusement as her gaze darted toward the booth where Drayton leaned back in the seat with his hands clasped behind his head. I couldn’t blame her for having a bit of a stare. I was used to the fact that he was admired a lot.
“I’ll bring the order over when it’s done.” She tucked a strand of her shoulder-length copper hair behind her ear.
“Thanks, Kenz.”
I slid into the booth beside Drayton and tucked into his side. Gabby and Josh were hungover. They were wearing sunglasses even though the weather was overcast and we were inside. They leaned against each other on the other side of the booth and suffered.
Drayton’s arm rested around my shoulders. His muscles ached and whenever I shifted, he winced from all of the bruising around his biceps I told him more than once to move his arm, but he insisted on keeping me tucked in beside him.
“Gah, where is this food?” I murmured after fifteen minutes, staring at the kitchen where I could see our chef, Joe, checking his cell phone. “I’m starving.”
“Don’t lie,” Drayton laughed. “You just ate.”
It took me a minute to understand what he was talking about. Then I remembered what we’d been doing before we left his house and I smothered a snort.
“Can you not?” Josh frowned, catching on as well. His head was tipped back, leaning on Gabby’s and both of them had a flattering double chin happening.
“Can I not what?” Drayton scoffed, tapping the tabletop with his spare hand. “Can I not talk to my girlfriend about our sex life?”
Josh groaned and I wondered if Gabby was asleep or if she was just avoiding the conversation. “You’re obsessed.”
“I’m obsessed?” Drayton leaned forward with disbelief. His hoodie pulled tight against his chest. “Your room smells like dick all the time. You have jizz on your headboard.”
Gabby was definitely awake. Her chapped lips parted in horror.
“Why are you so fucking loud?” Josh seethed.
“How did you even achieve that?” Drayton laughed. “Learn how to aim. You damn spaz.”
I twisted the hoodie string around my finger. “Better on the headboard than in Gabby’s uterus.”
She remained quiet but slowly lifted a hand and rested it on her face, as if she was hiding. Drayton’s loud laugh further irritated the hungover couple. Both of them cringed, their lips pursed in protest.
We were provided with a distraction when Kenzie delivered our nachos. The plate was huge. Cheese, salsa, sour cream, and of course, a mountain of chips. It was mouthwatering, and Drayton and I wasted no time digging in.
Gabby and Josh hesitated. It must have been the thought of stomaching food that was making them reluctant. Usually they wouldn’t be so shy. I pushed the plate farther into the middle of the table and both of them gagged when the aroma wafted toward their noses. So dramatic.
“You’re not usually this tragic in the morning,” I said. “Exactly how much did you have to drink?”
“It’s not about how much,” Gabby groaned, her body
draped across the tabletop as if she couldn’t hold up her own weight. “We had poisonous tequila shots.”
I had to agree with her there. I didn’t touch the stuff.
“Gabs,” I clapped my hands together to dust off chip powder. “Your mom was asking me about your college applications. Like, she doesn’t know where you applied? I’m getting kind of worried.”
She remained head down on the table, ignoring me. Josh’s eyes were hidden behind his shades but his lips pursed. He knew something.
“You’re almost a straight-A student,” I continued. “What is the issue? Did you really not app—”
“I did. Shut up,” she interrupted. The door jingled, piercing our now-silent group as new customers came in and out. “I applied at the Arapahoe Community College. Mom didn’t want me moving far and Josh is here. Okay? Happy?”
I looked at Josh, confused, as well as Drayton, who shrugged. “Why wouldn’t you just tell me that, Gabs?”
She slowly sat up, wincing and breathing through her movements. “Because you always go on about how smart I am and how I could go anywhere, and I chose people over college. You would never do that. I didn’t want to get harassed about it.”
“I haven’t been pushy, have I?” She didn’t answer me. “I didn’t mean to make you feel pressured. I just want the best for you, Gabs.”
“Someone’s in a grump,” Drayton mumbled, mouth full of food.
“I’m happy if you’re happy,” I assured her.
She didn’t respond, but she did smile. A small smile. I attempted to encourage her to eat again—it was no doubt what she needed—but when I pushed the oversized blue plate farther toward her, she scowled and shoved it back.
“Hey, remember when you two made out once?” Drayton waved a finger between his best friend and me. Even behind their sunglasses, I could see Josh’s and Gabby’s brows furrow.
“What the fuck?”
Drayton ignored Josh. “Dude, I wanted to cut off your tongue when I saw that shit. Baby, I’m so glad that you didn’t sleep with him.”
If the fluorescent lights and white noise of the diner weren’t making our friends throbbing headaches worse, Drayton sure was. Gabby’s chest visibly expanded and her feet shuffled under the table.
“Ignore him,” I told her, folding a napkin into a triangle.
“Josh, who’s the better kisser?”
Josh turned his palms upward, a sheen of sweat shining under the light.
“Drayton, I do not need to know the answer to that,” I said, a side-on glance expressing my disapproval. “None of us do.”
“I do.”
“Why are we talking about this?” Gabby croaked.
Drayton shrugged. “What else would we talk about?”
“Anything!” Josh cried. “Literally anything else.”
Josh had known Drayton a lot longer than I had, but even I knew that ignoring him was the best way to make him stop. He loved winding people up. He was a child.
“Come on,” he coaxed. “Or I’ll assume it’s Dallas.”
“If I say Dallas, I hurt Gabby. If I say Gabby, you’ll chew me out for insulting Dallas.” Josh clenched his jaw and banged a fist on the table. “I can’t win so I’m not answering.”
“Good idea,” Drayton nodded. “Safe.”
“It’s Gabby.” I winked at her, biting another chip loaded with salsa. I chewed and swallowed. “We’ve made out before. I know that it’s her.”
Drayton recoiled, his head whipping between both of us so fast that I expected it to snap. “Pics or it didn’t happen.”
I nudged him with my elbow. He wasn’t done, though. “Should we have a foursome?”
It didn’t even surprise me that he said it. It was the volume at which he said it that might have been responsible for Josh standing up and leaving. Gabby watched him pull the door open, a gust of cold air and the jingle of the bell following.
“I should go.” She stood up, slow and fatigued. “He’s just tired.”
When she was gone, Drayton sighed. “Finally.”
“You did that on purpose?”
“Of course, I did.” He shrugged, settling farther into the seat. He hissed when my shoulder bumped his biceps. “So that we could be alone.”
“We could have left, Dray. Or just told them that we wanted to spend some time alone.”
“Nah,” he grinned. “That was more fun.”
“You don’t really want to have a foursome then?”
“Fuck no. Some couples can do that. Sweet. I couldn’t deal watching someone else put their hands on you. I’d slip and murder them. Why? Do you want to have one?”
“No.”
“Sweet.”
The vibrating on the tabletop clattered the salt dispenser and startled me. Drayton chuckled, pushing the plate away from his reach so that he couldn’t eat any more. I picked up my cell and read the email notification on the screen.
It was from CalArts.
I’d been waiting for this moment since the audition. I’d imagined where I’d be and how I would respond to this email. And now that it was here, I had no idea how to proceed. Drayton leaned over and read the unopened email notification.
“Cheer.” He sat up straighter. “Read it. Babe? Open the email.”
“I’m scared.”
“Should we go somewhere private?”
“No.”
“Well …” he sounded apprehensive, cautious, as he shifted beside me. “I’m not sure what else to do here.”
“Open it.” I shoved the cell phone into his hand. “I can’t do it.”
My heart was hammering, pounding so furiously that I began to feel lightheaded.
“Okay.” He started to put in the passcode, his gold thumb ring shimmering in the diner’s lights. Before I even realized that I’d done it, I snatched the phone back. His now-empty hand hovered open. “Okay.”
“Sorry, I just—no. You do it.”
I handed the phone back.
“Is this a thing? Are we going to keep passing the phone back and forth?” he said. “If so, we should go home and do it in the nude. It’d be more interesting.”
“Shut up.” I backhanded his chest but managed to laugh. His unapologetic humor grounded me, and I calmed down a little bit. “Open it. I’m good. I won’t snatch it again.”
“You kids need something else?” Hattie, an older waitress who did shifts on the weekends, picked up the plate of nachos and smiled, red lipstick smeared across her veneers. “Drink? Snacks?”
“No thanks, ma’am.” Drayton gestured the cell phone in my direction. “Got a whole meal right here.”
“No thanks, Hattie,” I answered quickly, attempting to keep the impatience out of my tone. “We’re good.
“Okay.” I inhaled. I exhaled. I nodded. “Do it.”
Drayton unlocked the phone again. I looked up at his face instead of watching the screen. His eyes moved to mine for a second and he grinned. “Fuck, you’re cute.” He returned to the phone and I could hear the soft tap of his thumb pads getting closer and closer to knowing just what the future held.
The reflection was in his green gaze, but I couldn’t read what he was reading. I just knew that when his brows pulled together, for a mere millisecond, my heart stopped. I didn’t get in.
“You did it, Cheer,” he looked at me and smiled so bright that he could have outshone the sun. “You did it. You got in.”
“I got in?” I snatched the phone. It was hard to read the screen as adrenaline pumped through me and I felt dazed. “Where, where, oh there! Ah. Dray! I got in.”
The phone clattered on the tabletop as I dropped it and dived on top of him. He tumbled into the corner of the booth but didn’t fail to encase me in his strong hold. He buried his face in my neck and congratulated me over and over again. We hugged for a while. I read the email again. We kissed and he decided to make an announcement.
“If you know this girl right here,” he shouted, “give her a congrats. She just got acce
pted to her dream college.”
The entire diner didn’t know who I was, but they all clapped regardless. It was sort of embarrassing, but sweet as well. Hattie, Kenzie, and Joe gave me a more personal congratulations, and after about fifteen minutes of reveling in success, I sighed in contentment and relaxed back into the seat. The email was still open.
“Dray.” I peered up at my man, who was sipping a pop that Kenzie gave me on the house. “How come you seemed … disappointed when you read the email?”
“Disappointed? What are you talking about?”
“You sort of frowned when you were reading it.”
“You’re imagining things.” He put the drink down and leaned both of his elbows on the tabletop, as if he was putting his back to me.
“I know that you frowned.” I was gentle with the words. “Is it because I’ll be going to California for sure now?”
“Cheer.” He looked over his shoulder. “I didn’t frown. I’m not disappointed. I was probably concentrating or looking for the paragraph. I don’t know. I’m not disappointed. Why are you trying to start an argument?”
“I’m not.”
“Stop with the accusations, then.”
His leg bounced under the table as we fell silent. What the hell did I do that for?
“Have you written a letter of intent?” I asked when I couldn’t handle the quiet for another moment. “Like, I don’t even know where you’re going to college.”
His hands came together in front of his chin and he shook his head.
“So you don’t know where you’re going to college? Dray, you’ll miss the deadline.”
“Can we go?” He turned his knees toward me, wanting out of the worn leather booth.
Despite the fact that he was being a bit shut off and I’d unintentionally spoiled the good mood, he held my hand in the car.
“Dray, where are you going to college?”
He stared out of the windshield, turning the wipers on when a light rain began to fall. “I don’t know. It depends on whether I can convince my dad to stop being a dick.”
“Okay. Where do you want to go to college?”
“UCLA. It’s a good school.” His hand dropped mine so that he could turn on the blinker and the lights. The rain was getting heavier. “And it’s close to you.”
The QB Bad Boy and Me Page 29
