Page 42 of Rival Season
“You guys are so damn cute!” Ally squeals.
Two girls in the front row look back and shoot us dirty looks, but we ignore them. We’re having too much fun to care.
The end of game buzzer goes off soon after Penn’s goal, and the crowd goes wild celebrating the Lions win. My body is humming with energy as Ally and I make our way through the crowd, walking arm in arm until we enter a door that takes us through the back tunnels of the arena. When we near the double doors that lead inside the dressing room, my hands grow clammy. I don’t know how to act when I see Penn, and there are tons of people around. Family members, staff, and it looks like a sportscaster and cameraman are set up to interview the players.
“Maybe I should just head home,” I tell Ally and she comes to a stop.
“What? No way! Penn will want to see you, and you can ride back with all of us.”
My heart races as I take in all the people in the wide hallway. But I nod.
“Relax. Your man is the star of the show tonight,” Ally says, bumping her hip against mine. “Soak it up.”
I force a nervous laugh. “Okay.” She’s being such a supportive friend, I feel a pinch of guilt that I’m lying about being Penn’s girlfriend. When we fake-break-up, I’m going to miss seeing Ally.
Ten minutes later, players start to slowly trickle out of the dressing room, all freshly showered with damp hair and back in their game-day suits.
My breath catches in my throat each time the door opens, but Penn and his friends are some of the last ones out. Penn searches the crowd until his eyes find mine, then he grins. He looks so genuinely happy to see me, I almost forget this is fake.
The sportscaster taps Penn on the shoulder, but Penn holds up a hand and strides toward me. His blue-eyed gaze doesn’t stray from mine, and soon he’s right in front of me. He smiles before wrapping a strong arm around my waist and hauling me against him so I’m enveloped in the feel of his crisp suit, the scent of his body wash, and the heat pouring off him even through his clothes. He looks down at me for a split second, his eyes glinting playfully, and then he presses his lips to mine.
It’s embarrassing how quickly I melt against him, all my worries instantly relaxing as his warm mouth moves over mine and his teeth tug at my bottom lip in a searing kiss. Both of his arms wrap me tightly against him, and I lose myself in the moment. My arms go around his neck, my fingers finding the ends of his damp hair. Penn kisses me like we’ve done this a million times, expertly tilting his head for the best angle. I’ve completely forgotten anyone is around us by the time he slowly pulls back with a wicked smirk on his face.
“Hey, Bubbles,” he rasps, his voice rough and scratchy.
I swallow, and open my mouth to reply, when a bright light nearly blinds me. Then I realize the cameraman is aiming his big fancy camera right in our direction, and the sportscaster is chuckling into his microphone and says, “Looks like Penn Matthews knows how to celebrate a win!” The man thrusts his microphone toward Penn. “Matthews, how’d it feel to get that winning goal tonight?”
Penn’s arm is wrapped around me, and I’m still in a daze from his molten kiss when he smiles into the camera. “I knew my girl was here watching me, and nothing feels better than winning one for her.” He presses another kiss against the top of my head. “She brought me luck tonight.”
I gape at him, in awe of how he can act so normal in front of the camera after kissing me like that. This man is either a fiendor a great actor. My mind is mush as the cameraman asks a few more questions, then he and his crew leave.
Penn grabs my hand and laces his fingers through mine. We begin walking toward the exit. “I like the purple and turquoise,” he tells me as we walk.
“Oh, thanks,” I mumble, bringing my free hand to my mouth and tracing my lips…wondering why I can still feel the sensation of his lips on mine. I know we agreed that we’d have to kiss from time to time to uphold our act…but nothing about that kissfeltlike acting.
CHAPTER 15
PENN
The day after our game,I wake up in my own bed.
Alone.
Sadly for me, the sleepover at Hazel’s place I suggested yesterday morning did not end up happening—but I didn’t bring the idea up again. Mainly because I’d been (mostly) joking in the first place…but I also wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to keep teasing her about sleeping in her bed after I’d just kissed her.
I didn’t want her to think I was trying to initiate a hookup or something. So to be on the safe side, when we got home last night, I simply walked her to her front door and said “goodnight” like a good boy.
This morning, none of us guys have plans until practice later. Noah and Ally head out for a brunch date, so Fisher and I go to the grocery store to restock the loft. Tomorrow, we head off for a few days of games on the road, and we all like to come home to a full fridge and pantry after being away.
“I got the meat,” Fisher says as he dumps a bunch of packages of sliced deli turkey and ham into the overflowing cart I’m pushing, then looks down at the shopping list on his phone. “Now we just need to grab those yogurts Ally likes.”
“And ketchup chips.”
“Gross.” Fisher wrinkles his nose.
I flip him off, then steer the cart into the next aisle and add several bags of chips to the cart, making sure to grab extra for Cassie. Ketchup chips are a rarity here in the States, but luckily for me, the owner of this store happens to be from Vancouver, and they carry my favorite Canadian flavors.
“You Canadians are so weird.” Fisher shakes his head as he grabs a few bags of Doritos.
