As soon as she was out of view, Lucas spread out on his seat. “Who else will be there tonight?” he asked, wondering if there would be enough people where no one would notice him talking to Avery, if he happened to get a chance to. And by “people,” he meant Colin.
LeVonn turned his huge frame to face him. “Munch, Digger, Lonny, a couple of others, prolly Claire and Yvonne, Danny, Mac. I dunno. The usual crowd.”
Lucas nodded as if he knew who the usual crowd was. He had gathered that Claire dated Digger, who was a safety, Munch was the receiver in a cast, but that was all he knew. They were just numbered jerseys to him.
By the time they arrived at the field, about twenty people were already there.
He tried to pay attention to the guys as he was introduced to them, tried to remember their names as he recounted the infamous tackle that everyone wanted to talk about, as he tried to keep tabs on Avery as she rotated around groups of people.
Eventually she nudged Dave, who made room for her as Lucas was finishing up. “And then all I remember was being at the hospital,” he said, daring to glance up at her. Her mouth was pressed tight as if she was trying not to smile.
Dave shook his head. “Jaysus, man. I can’t even believe you’re here. I heard your helmet crack from the other end of the field. I thought for sure you were dead.”
“So did Coach, I think. I mean, he was actually nice to me. He must have been in total shock,” Lucas said with a laugh.
Everyone else laughed and went on to reminisce about another bad tackle at a neighboring school in their conference.
“It’s travel day Friday,” Colin said, plucking another beer from the cooler.
Everyone cheered.
“Travel day?” As soon as Lucas asked, he knew the answer. Some rural teams had to travel a long way to get to a game. Henderson had been a much larger city than Hillside—all the schools in the conference had been pretty much within city limits.
“Jefferson High in Danvers City—right up against the New Mexico border. We’ll have to leave at about two p.m. We stay the night at the Holiday Inn Express. It has a pool and hot tub, which is where we do our game analysis,” Colin said with a straight face.
“Yeah, but it ain’t the football game analysis,” LeVonn said as he grabbed a handful of beer bottles to pass out.
The guys laughed.
Lucas looked at his shoes, hiding the jealousy that popped up inside him with such force that he was sure it was written on his face. He’d never traveled for a game before. It sounded like fun. It was a good thing he was injured; otherwise there was no force on earth that would have kept him from leaving the team before that game. The good part of him was thankful for the concussion. The football player in him wanted to play so bad, it hurt.
“If we win against Jefferson by at least eight points and then win against Marshall Hill by at least five points, we can scrape through to the playoffs,” LeVonn said.
Lucas closed his eyes, fighting the thoughts that popped up like evil lightbulbs in his bruised head. It was 100 percent for sure the messed-up part of his brain that was trying to convince him that he could help them get to the playoffs if he played. Everyone knew that even though scouts didn’t attend a whole bunch of high school games anymore, they regularly attended conference playoffs. If he played, he could help them all get in front of college scouts. Wouldn’t that be doing a good thing?
No. He tried to shake it off. Do. The. Right. Thing.
As he opened his eyes, Lucas’s gaze met Avery’s. She held his stare for a few seconds. And then a few seconds more. Long enough for him to know that it wasn’t an accidental glance. Long enough for his brain to flash to the thought of kissing her. Heat rushed around him as she blinked slowly and turned and walked away toward the bleachers. He watched as she walked up the steps and sat on the third row.
His heart kicked up the pace. He backed out of the group as they were picking apart LeVonn’s “game,” picked up two bottles of beer from Munch’s cooler, and headed over. It was almost completely dark now and with no lights, save the couple of camping lanterns someone had bought to illuminate the coolers. There was no harm in talking, as long as that was all they did. Especially with Colin here. It’d help him get an Avery fix, anyway. Maybe she could help him find the words to tell her father he couldn’t play on the team anymore.
“Hey,” he said, pausing in front of her. He held up a bottle.
“Hey,” she replied, holding out her hand for it.
He gave it to her and sat on the first row bench, straddling it, trying not to realize that if it were light, he’d be able to see right up her skirt. Perv. Truth was he wouldn’t have looked even if it had been daylight. Sneaking a peek at a girl was horseshit compared to having that same girl want you to touch her. Having her ask you to. Telling you how she like to be kissed.
Shit. Where was his head? He took a deep gulp of beer and swallowed hard, looking out at the guys on the field.
“Is this what you guys do most weeks?”
“I guess,” Avery said, looking down, her hair swinging over her shoulder.
“How did you find a whole night in your planner to actually come?” he asked.
She looked up at him and stared for a second. “I just canceled everything I had planned for today. I’m pretending today is a whole day that doesn’t count.” She smiled. “I mean, obviously, I’m going to be super busy tomorrow, but I can get up early.”
His heart stuttered at her smile, and he suddenly realized that if he dropped out of the team, he would no longer have a reason to see her outside school.
“Will you still have time to see me this week?” He deliberately kept it neutral.
“Sure—it’s already in my planner,” she said. “Tuesday and Thursday at lunchtime, we can meet in the science lab on the second floor. I need to check on an experiment I’m doing for AP Bio. It might give us more than twenty minutes if we meet at lunch.”
Damn. That wasn’t exactly what he wanted, but he’d take it. Time with Avery calmed his overstressed brain, eased the tension that seemed to vibrate through him, and hell, just plain turned him on.
He was going to keep seeing her, whenever and wherever she had time for him, until there was no way he could postpone telling Coach that he was dropping out of the team. Then he’d…shit, he didn’t know. But with his concussion, he figured he’d have at least a couple of weeks to figure it out.
…
Avery didn’t recognize herself. Ever since they’d arrived, she’d been hyperaware of where he was and had been so frustrated that he hadn’t made a move to come find her that she’d taken matters into her own hands.
And now they were alone, he’d sat down on the bench like three away from her. But on the other hand, he had read her look at him. He’d held her stare for long enough for her heart to start to pound. All she’d wanted to do was to tell him where they were going to meet the following week and maybe get his cell phone number so she could at least cancel if she had to.
Right. That was the reason she wanted his number.
“How’s your head?” she asked.
“Fine,” he said. “Surprisingly.” And then he cleared his throat. “I can feel a little thickness in my brain back here”—he stroked the short hair on the back of his head—“but I’ve had that before. I just need to take it easy for a couple of days. Who do you think your dad will play with Munch and me benched?”
“Probably Greg. He came in the white car with David and Claire?” She wasn’t sure if he’d seen them arrive about the same time they had.
He shook his head.
“Oh well, he’s here. He’s actually also on the scholastic decathlon team, so he’s at practice when he doesn’t have that. Which is why he only goes on in cases like this. He’s decent…but as I said—he doesn’t get to practice much.”
Lucas shook his he
ad. “So weird. At my old school, if you didn’t turn up for practice, you didn’t play.”
Avery sat up straight and stretched her back. She’d been so tense when they came here, and now that Lucas was actually here and talking to her, her body was relaxing. It felt good. “Beggars can’t be choosers. Our school is so small, and despite the number of kids—and their parents—who want to play on Dad’s team, it’s still a pretty small pool of players if we want to be competitive.” And we really do.
Lucas nodded. Silence fell between them. But before she could ask for his number, he said, “So tell me. Which is your favorite Star Wars movie? I haven’t thought about much else since you mentioned it.”
She laughed. “Seriously? That’s all you could think about?” She couldn’t take the edge off her voice, although she was trying really hard to be casual. They’d shared, like, two moments together. She’d been beating herself up for thinking about them when she should have been concentrating on school, and while she was thinking about him, apparently all he’d been thinking about were movies? She knew she wasn’t all that, hell, even Blaine had called her vanilla—sweet but uninteresting—in his break-up text, but come on, they’d nearly made out. Kind of, anyway.
He tipped his head to one side and paused.
She looked down. Damn. Why hadn’t she kept it light? She tried to think of something to say that would cover for her mistake but came up with nothing.
He still said nothing. When she looked up, he opened his mouth to speak, but in the dark she saw a ball flying toward them. She pointed and squeaked, “Ball!”
Lucas jumped up, spilling his beer, and intercepted it before it hit her. He caught it effortlessly. A huddle of guys came running toward them.
“Run!” a voice yelled.
He peered into the darkness. “Shit!” he said and took off with the ball. He didn’t run fast, just fast enough to stay a few paces ahead of the crowd.
Suddenly, there was a shout of pain. Avery jumped up. Was that Lucas? She ran down the steps and through the huddle. It wasn’t Lucas. It was Greg. “Sprained or broken? Sprained or broken?” he asked through clenched teeth.
“Dude. You probably twisted it,” Colin said. “Come on, man. Walk it off.”
There was a pause. Yvonne ran to the cooler and grabbed some ice in her sweater and a bottle of beer. Then made her way back to Greg with the beer. “This’ll help,” she said, handing him a beer and sticking the ice on his ankle. Everyone cheered.
Suddenly, there was a rumble of thunder in the distance. There was no way there was going to be a storm. Mr. Hardy said nothing about rain. It was supposed to be a windstorm, and that had passed through during the day.
Lightning flashed over by the fertilizer plant to the east of the mall. A soft wind picked back up. It was nice. She closed her eyes and breathed. Okay. So Lucas had spent the past days wondering about her movie preferences. That was fine. She should remember why she and Lucas were even talking in the first place. Her dad. His job. Those were the important things.
With that out of her mind—she hoped—she could plan what she had to do tomorrow. It gave her comfort to know that she could turn to a fresh page, pick up a pen, and plan something different. It amazed her how those simple things could change everything. It was comforting.
And then thunder crashed above them, making her eyes fly open and Claire scream.
It felt like a bare three seconds before the skies opened. There was no faint splatter of rain. It went from dry to pouring in two seconds.
Everyone dived for the coolers and coats and ran for the nearest shelter. She was about to turn and follow them when someone took her hand. Lucas.
“Come on!” he shouted against the roaring sound of the rain hitting the stands and the plastic that covered the touchlines. He ran, and she followed. She couldn’t see a few feet ahead of her or hear anyone else. But he was holding her hand, and that was all her brain processed. He stopped as soon as they reached the concrete tunnel that ran around the outside of the field.
She stood against the wall, catching her breath. They were both soaked. Totally drenched like they’d been through a car wash. Was her dress see-through now? She resisted the urge to look down and just plucked it from her skin a little.
She opened her mouth to say something—she wasn’t sure what.
Lucas came up close, totally invading her space. He braced himself on one arm next to her head. Rain was still dripping down his face. Her knees felt like honey under his intense gaze. “No. Star Wars is not all I’ve been thinking about. I’ve been thinking about how you helped me when you didn’t have to. How generous you’ve been to me. I’ve been wondering what happened to your mom and how you’re even still functioning. I’ve been wondering what you do when you’re alone in your room. I’ve been thinking about the expression on your face in the hospital. Because I can’t forget the way you looked at me. You…you looked like you wanted me to kiss you. Really kiss you.”
Avery’s breath caught in her throat. Her joints seemed to fuzz, like she’d had too much to drink. He was so close, and she’d thought about him kissing her all day. His words just about slayed her.
“I’ve been thinking about you, Avery.” His gaze roamed her face, lingering on her lips.
Her breath shook as she inhaled. She’d never wanted to kiss anyone as much as she wanted to kiss Lucas Black.
“I’m going to kiss you. Unless you tell me no.” He moved closer, so she could feel the heat of his body against hers. “Are you telling me no?”
She shook her head. But every part of her wanted to take responsibility for kissing him. She looked him in the eye. “Kiss me.” Even speaking the words heated her up.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Jesus,” he whispered.
Then his mouth was on hers. There was no tentative kiss first—like in the hospital. She’d given her permission and he’d taken it.
Her hands flew to his face as his tongue took control. He pressed his whole body against her, and she felt every hot inch of it. It was as if the storm was powering them with electricity. Thunder and lightning raged a few feet from them as she tried to hold him tighter against her. She could feel that he was turned on, and in turn that turned her on and made her want more of him. She kissed him back with the ferocity he showed her. And every time he broke the kiss to change position a little, she felt the same stab of need when his tongue touched hers again.
His hand cupped her breast through her dress. She arched into his touch with a little moan. And then as soon as it happened, he was gone. Her eyes flew open.
He was leaning against the opposite side of the tunnel. She didn’t understand. What had happ—
“There you are.” Colin came around the corner, followed by the whole group.
Avery’s hand flew to her mouth. She was a hussy, a complete and utter hussy. She pressed her lips together to stop herself from smiling. Holy crap.
“We found you!” Lexi said, holding out her hand. “We’re going to the locker rooms. They have heaters in there.”
Avery couldn’t meet Lucas’s eyes. She just smiled and took Lexi’s hand, letting her lead her away from the scene of the crime. The super-hot crime. The super-hot, freaking amazing crime. She tried to shift gears.
“Oh God, one day we’re going to have to tell our kids that we used to spend Saturday night in the guys’ locker room,” she said with what she hoped was a light, breezy laugh.
“I know, right? We need to find something more fun to do on the weekend,” Lexi grumbled.
Lexi carried on chatting, ostensibly to her, but making it clear to the guys that she still wasn’t happy about coming to the football field. While she made them laugh, Avery tried to regain her composure. They’d kissed. Like whoa. He’d touched her. She’d wanted him to touch her more. To touch her everywhere.
She needed some alone time
to think. Even after eight months, Blaine had never made her feel half as excited. What did that mean? Lucas had made her feel sexy—like he couldn’t resist her—and that made her feel confident.
She wanted to feel that way again.
So badly.
Chapter Seventeen
Lucas couldn’t believe how fast that had gotten out of control. Just one touch of her tongue and he was on fire. When she’d said, “Kiss me,” in that husky whisper, she nearly killed him. Were sexier words ever said? Not to him. And some girls had said some pretty graphic things to him.
It was one thing to kiss a girl. It was another experience entirely to have them explicitly say they wanted to. If he hadn’t heard the rest of them coming along the corridor, God only knew what they would have caught Avery and him doing.
He spent the following hour in the locker room, trying not to look at her, worrying that she’d be embarrassed or, worse, that just looking at her would give him another hard-on. He and Avery couldn’t be a thing. Not with the clusterfuck that was his life, never mind what her brother and father would say—and possibly do—if they knew.
Four months ago, he wouldn’t have cared. He also wouldn’t be doubting whether she’d say yes if he asked her out. But that was four months ago. This was now. She hadn’t looked at him once since they kissed, and he was pretty sure that meant she maybe hadn’t felt the same as him.
He tried to shake it off.
“You okay, man?” LeVonn asked, frowning at him. “You look like you just ran over your cat.”
“Just tired,” he lied. Time to change the subject. “Where did Greg go?”
LeVonn settled back against the locker and watched the girls poke around the locker room.
“Called him a taxi. His ankle was hurting. Hey—that might mean you’ll have to play next week, man. Shit.” He sat up. “I bet Coach would rather have you than someone with a sketchy ankle. You better fix your head before Friday.”
The Love Playbook Page 12