Jockblocked: A Novel (Gridiron Book 2)(82)

“We’re perilously low,” I tell him. “We should make a detour tonight.”

“Detour? Hell, it will be our first stop.”

“Before we leave, here’s this.” I present the gift I’ve been working on for the past week.

“What’s this?” He leans against the door panel and hefts the gold-wrapped package for inspection.

“It’s for you. Someone told me it was your birthday.” I sidle in beside him to look at the present.

Matty flips the package around with both hands while sliding me an amused glance. “Last October.”

I shrug. “I missed Valentine’s Day.”

“Hmm,” he muses. “That was last week, wasn’t it? Hammer was going off about how he was writing about how to give the best Valentine’s Day blow job, but I figured he was writing ahead.”

I hurry to assure him that I’m not upset because I’m totally not. I didn’t expect any Valentine’s Day present. “I hate that made-up holiday. I’m so glad we didn’t do anything.”

“You sure?”

Is he kidding? I couldn’t have a more attentive boyfriend. Yes, we don’t do a million things together because we’re both busy, but he’s there when I need him. He listens to me vent about mock trial, about the stress of midterms, about my mother. He holds my hand when I confess I’m scared of the upcoming competition and doesn’t deride me for being overly cautious.

And, most importantly, even though he goes out with his boys now and then, I haven’t seen any pictures of him with his arms around another girl, which makes me feel a little foolish for having any concerns about him in the first place.

I rise on my tiptoes to give him a kiss on his cheek. “Completely. Now open this up so we can eat. I’m starving.”

That gets him moving. These days he’s more careful about what I eat than I am. He’s always looking for vegan places, even though I’ve assured him a million times that I eat meat. That always leads to him giggling like a schoolboy. Maybe he just drags me to those places to hear me say the words I eat meat.

He rips off the paper. Just takes his hand and tears the wrapping right down the middle and then stares. Looks at me. Then back to the frame to stare some more.

It’s a square frame and inside is his jersey from the Championship game he played and won that second weekend in January right before we met. Hammer found it stuffed in the bottom drawer of Matty’s dresser. In a cutout inset in the bottom, which took me three tries and five ruined mats before I got right, his stats for the game are listed along with the Outland Trophy he was so proud of.

“This is some present,” he murmurs, almost to himself. He admires every part of the gift, from the dark stained wood frame, to the matte glass covering, and the white mat surrounding the blue and gold jersey, the patch of the bowl game turned outward on full display. We stand outside in the rapidly dimming light. I should be getting cold, but there’s something about the way that he’s smiling that heats me up inside.

Finally, after several moments pass along with students who cast curious gazes our way, Matty’s done inspecting the gift and hits the key fob to raise the back gate. Carefully, he stows the framed jersey under a netting strapped to the floor of the trunk and then pushes the hatch closed.

He helps me into the passenger side and then rounds the front. Inside the car it’s toasty warm. On the way to the mall, he swings into a drugstore parking lot.

“I thought you forgot,” I say amused.

He arches an eyebrow. “Are you kidding? After that thing back there, I’m thinking about skipping the mall and hauling you back to the house so I can thank you properly. Stay here while I run inside.”

It’s the third box we’ve needed since we started dating a month ago.

Matty’s full of endless amounts of energy. Even though practice is in full swing, there’s not a day that goes by without a phone call, personal visit or text. Usually they all include some kind of sexual innuendo and the days we don’t see each other are just one long period of foreplay that makes it all the more exciting when we finally do get our hands on each other.

He pops back in and throws the box into my lap. I toss it between my hands, thinking about the one time Matty forgot the condom and how hot that was. I throw it back at him. “Want to stop using these?”

He jerks, his hand skittering off the gearshift to collide with the dash. He takes a deep breath and then another before swiveling his head toward me, his black hair nearly obscuring his face. I reach over and tuck the strands behind his ear.

The heat in his eyes nearly singes my fingers.

“If you didn’t want to shop, you should have just told me,” he finally says. “Because right now, there’s no way I’ll be able to get out of this vehicle without being arrested for public indecency.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

He straightens and then cups my skull, pulling me close to his lips. “It’s a yes.”

After kissing me senseless, he returns to his seat and starts the Rover. I put myself to rights, pulling down my bra he had shoved up along with my sweater and buttoning my jeans I hadn’t even realized he’d loosened.

“Talk to me,” he orders as he stares into the rearview mirror and then navigates around the other cars before entering the stream of traffic.