Page 87 of Hometown Halftime

“I hate both of you.”

Darren thinks for a moment, then says, “Okay, wait, hold on. I have an important question.” His eyes narrow suspiciously. “Are we talking cute little kissing or actually making out?”

“I’m not answering that question,” I tell him.

Lee slaps both hands over his mouth. “They’re definitely making out.”

Darren falls backward against the couch cushions. “Weston finally snapped.”

“I did not snap,” I say.

Lee points slowly. “You're catastrophically down bad.”

I stare up at the ceiling and sigh. I can’t fight them on this any longer.

“Yeah. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

Darren laughs. “That’s actually kind of adorable.”

“Don’t call me adorable,” I scowl.

“You’re becoming emotionally attached,” he says. “And that’s adorable.”

Lee sits on the recliner and asks, “Have you told her? You know, about your lack of experience?”

I rub my temples. “No. Fuck, I’m afraid she’s going to freak out.”

“Are you thinking about sleeping with her?” Darren asks, all joking gone.

I nod. “Yeah, I am.”

“Holy shit,” Lee whispers.

I throw a chip at him and he deflects it. Darren gets up and walks toward the kitchen.

“We’re going to need more beers, boys.”

Underneath the embarrassment and relentless harassment from my friends, one truth settles heavily inside me. I want her badly, and not just physically, either. I want all of it. I want the kissing, the talks, and seeing her in the morning. I want her books scattered across my coffee table and her laughter filling my kitchen.

Now I just need to figure out how to tell her I want her in my bed.

Chapter thirty-six

Kinsey

It’s Saturday morning and I’m running on ninety percent adrenaline and ten percent caffeine.

Actually, scratch that—based on the amount of coffee currently coursing through my bloodstream, the percentages are probably flipped.

The parking lot beside Cedar Falls High’s athletic fields is already packed by the time I pull in just after nine. Trucks and cars line the gravel overflow lot, and the bleachers are dang near full.

They’re all here for the first official girls’ rugby match in Cedar Falls High School history. No pressure or anything.

I stare at the scene for a second after climbing out of my Jeep, emotion catching me completely off guard. Three months ago, half of this town didn’t even know what rugby was. Now people are showing up with lawn chairs.

The sharp autumn air smells like fallen leaves and concession stand popcorn drifting from the field nearby. The girls are already gathering around our bench in clusters of nervous energy, adjusting scrum caps and stretching while parents mill around the sidelines.

The second Brooke spots me, she jogs over.