Until Friday Night (The Field Party #1)(51)

Once I was in the seat, I was at eye level with him. He leaned in and kissed me. It wasn’t the sweet, tender kind of kiss I was used to, but it was just as good. I felt like he was marking me and trying to drink me in all at the same time. He had me clinging to him and melting against him by the time he pulled away.

“You can’t wear Brady’s jersey,” he said simply, then closed the door and headed for the driver’s side.

If I couldn’t wear Brady’s jersey, then why was he taking me to school in it?

“I need to change, then,” I said as he opened his door and climbed inside.

He nodded in agreement. “Buckle up,” he instructed me.

I did as I was told, and he pulled out onto the street and headed for school. I waited for him to explain about the jersey, but he never said anything. At all.

The five-minute drive to Lawton High was short, and I wanted to know why I couldn’t wear Brady’s jersey. I started to open my mouth, when West drove past the parking lot and toward the field house.

Was he going to make me take it off and leave it in there? Because Aunt Coralee was right; I couldn’t wear this tank top to school. I’d be sent home fast.

“What are we doing?” I asked as his door swung open and he got out. He closed it and headed to my side without answering me.

When he opened my door, he grabbed me and kissed me again before picking me up and putting me down on the ground. “We’re going to fix your jersey,” he said simply. Then took my hand, and we walked inside the field house.

It was deserted this morning, thank goodness. I didn’t want to see naked guys. That would be very embarrassing. West took me past a row of lockers, then stopped once he got to the large ones on the end. I saw his last name written above a locker right before he opened it up.

“Take that off,” he said as he reached into the locker to pull out a neatly folded jersey on the top shelf.

He was giving me his jersey. My heart rate picked up as I quickly took off Brady’s jersey. West turned to look at me and stopped. Instead of handing me the shirt, he stepped toward me and bent his head to kiss my exposed collarbone before burying his head in my neck and inhaling deeply.

I shivered but remained very still. I was afraid if I moved, it would break the spell. I didn’t want him to stop. I loved having him close to me like this.

His hand slid around my waist, and he held me against him as his tongue began to take little licks of my neck, followed by kisses. I dropped Brady’s jersey and grabbed West’s arms to keep my knees from buckling.

“Taste so good, smell so good,” he whispered as his mouth moved lower, and he brushed his lips across the tops of my breasts several times. I watched him in fascination.

He lifted his eyes to look at me as he pulled my tank top down a little to continue his trail of kisses. “I need to stop. But I need you to tell me to stop.” His voice was deep.

I didn’t want him to stop. Getting to class had taken a backseat to this.

“If I tug this down any farther, I’m gonna want more. More than you need to give me in a dirty locker room. I swore to myself the next time I touched you like this, I’d have you somewhere special.”

He had robbed me of words. I just stood there holding on to his arms as he cupped one of my breasts through my shirt and kissed the top of the other. Then he growled and closed his eyes tightly before dropping his hands and moving away. I felt cold with him gone. I wanted him back.

“Lift your arms,” he said as he picked back up the jersey he’d gotten from his locker.

I did as I was told, and he slipped it over my head. Once he was happy that I had it on properly, he stepped back and looked at me. “Just my jersey, Maggie. No one else’s. Ever. I don’t want anyone’s jersey touching you but mine. Keep this one. Wear it any damn time you want, but don’t ever put Brady’s on again.”

Oh.

Okay.

Oh my.

I nodded and resisted the urge to wrap my arms around the shirt I was now wearing, and cuddle with it. It smelled like West. I was never going to want to wash it.

He grinned. “My girl. My f*cking jersey.”

Would I Be Her Choice?

CHAPTER 38

WEST

Tonight Maggie sat with my mom at the game. Every chance I got, I looked up at them. Maggie would wave most of the time, but then sometimes I’d catch her talking to my mother. My chest would feel so full, I wondered if it could burst.

After each touchdown I’d glance up to see Maggie standing and cheering with a huge grin on her face, my f*cking jersey covering her body. God, I loved that. Everyone saw she was mine.

When I’d seen her in Brady’s jersey this morning, I’d wanted to take it off her and burn it. The amused smirk on Brady’s face hadn’t helped. He’d known when she’d asked him for it how I’d react. Asswipe had done it on purpose and gotten a kick out of it.

When he’d walked down the hall and seen her in my jersey, he’d burst out laughing. No one but the three of us knew what he found so funny.

Maggie had even grinned and ducked her head as her cheeks flushed. She had been trying to please me. She just had no idea that a girl wearing a guy’s jersey meant she was his.

Family or not, she wasn’t wearing Brady’s f*cking jersey. Or anyone else’s for that matter. Just mine.

We won by a touchdown. Gunner caught a beautiful pass and ran it in to win us the game in the final three minutes. It had been a high-scoring game for both teams. I was worried at one point that we’d need to go into overtime, but Gunner fixed that.