by Alley Ciz
Except…
The more I get to know him, the less I see him as Casanova.
Family drama aside, our first official date was fun.
And that goodnight kiss?
Oh. My. God. Spectacular.
I need to stick my head in the freezer just thinking about it.
Dating Mason Nova is one thing. His attempts at PDA—though I’ve fended off most—have not gone unnoticed.
Now he wants me to wear his team hoodie? With his name and number in big fucking black lettering on the back?
I don’t know if I can handle that.
Okay, that’s a lie. It’s a hoodie, a super-soft, well-worn, still-smells-like-him piece of cotton. I can wear it. I’d be really comfortable in it too. It’s all the…attention that will come with it that I’m not sure if I can handle. Letting him mark me will take the casual interest and send it into the stratosphere.
Choosing to date Mason can open all kinds of cans of worms. I’m not sure if I’m ready for that.
But then I think about how he was with Olly and it makes me go all mushy inside. His concern and support for his brother above all else showed me another side of him I didn’t expect.
Honestly, I shouldn’t be surprised anymore; every time I’m with him, he does something unexpected.
“When you offered to bring me today, I thought it would be fun to have some sister time, but damn, PF, you have been lost in your head the whole time,” Tessa complains as I shift Pinky into park at The Barracks.
I thunk my head against my steering wheel, hiding my face against the leather.
“Shit, T, I’m sorry.”
“Why are you being weird? I haven’t told you that anything new popped up on Instagram, so it’s not that.”
Sonofabitch. See this? This is one of the worms I was talking about. How pathetic am I that I need someone still in high school to vet social media for me?
How am I supposed to be the girlfriend of a guy who is constantly trending?
“Mason knows I’m a cheerleader.” I keep my voice low as we walk through the gym, heading for the locker rooms.
“You told him?” Her midnight blue eyes widen to where I can see a full ring of white around them.
“Not exactly.” She makes a rolling motion with her hand for me to continue. “You know the twins?”
“Livi and Olly?”
I nod. We have a few sets of twins amongst the hundreds of athletes that make up our teams, but the Roberts twins are the only set on my main team.
“Mason is their brother.”
“Shut the front door!”
I snort then tell her about all about the CW-show-worthy drama that went down last night while I tie my cheer shoes.
“Oh my god, I love this.” She would—Gossip Girl is her favorite show. I can’t even get mad at her for how she’s clapping her hands in glee. It is so rare for her to act her age; most of the time I swear she’s the older one in our relationship.
We make our way out to the main gym, and the other twenty-one ladies who make up the Marshals—NJA’s small senior six all-girl team—start to trickle in. The Admirals are the main team I coach, but I help with the stunting for any team that needs it. With my mind all swirly, I’m grateful to have the double practice before the football game.
“I think you should wear the hoodie.” My head snaps up, my ponytail whipping my back as I blink at T like she’s lost her mind.
“Why?” I ask cautiously.
“You and JT are always trying to teach me to own who I am and not let others put me down.” T may only be a junior, but she’s already the favorite to be class valedictorian. Her bullies may be different than mine, but they are still bullies. “Don’t you think maybe you should start taking your own advice?”
Oh, look at that. Is my shoe untied? I’m supposed to be demonstrating stunting today, can’t have that. It’s not safe.
“Kay,” she prods.
I hate when the Taylors call me Kay.
“Don’t call me Kay. It’s weird.”
A divot forms in her cheek. The brat is biting back a smile.
“Then woman up and start setting a proper example for us impressionable young minds.”
Tessa may be a smartass, but she’s not wrong.
“I’m scared,” I whisper.
Petrified is more like it. High school may be over, but the internet lives forever.
It didn’t just retreat behind those who love me. With each omission and selective piece of information told, I’ve dug a moat and raised the drawbridge.
Choosing to be with Mason has the potential to serve as a Trojan horse that will change…everything.
“I’m not saying you should make Mason your profile picture”—I’d have to have a profile to do that—“or to tell him about E right now, but…”
But maybe it’s time to stop hiding.
#Chapter34
“I don’t know if I should be pumped for the game or upset Nova didn’t offer me these seats sooner,” G says as we settle into the red plastic chairs.
Nothing beats field-level seats. The smell of the turf and the closeness to the action are where it’s at for me.
“Don’t be jealous he likes me more.” I pat his chest.
“Still can’t believe that either.”
You and me both, G.
Around us, the stadium is quickly filling with the sold-out crowd that came to watch tonight’s Big Ten matchup against the Northwestern Wildcats. They are a strong team this season, and a win is important for the Hawks’ rankings toward the national championship.
I haven’t decided what I’m going to do about the hoodie. For now, the offending garment is draped over my purse. It’s too hot to wear it anyway.
Because my brothers are all a bunch of gossiping girls, I fill G and CK in on everything that went down last night. All conversation cuts off as the intro video for the Hawks starts playing on the jumbotron, and a flash of heat hits me when I see Mase on the screen. “Thunderstruck” by AC/DC starts to play as the team comes running out of the tunnel, and my gaze automatically finds number eighty-seven in the sea of large bodies.
Hands held, the captains head out for the coin toss, which the Wildcats win, opting to receive the ball first. The guys make their way back to the bench as the defense gets ready to take the field.
Our fancy new seats are directly behind the Hawks bench, giving me a great vantage point to watch Mase.
Shit! I’m thinking of him as Mase again. I’m totally going to end up wearing his hoodie.
I track him as he talks to his teammates, slapping helmets and shoulder pads along the way. He makes his way behind the bench, moving closer to the stands, looking at the crowd instead of the field.
What the hell is he doing?
I don’t think I can recall him ever not being 100% focused on the game. Then he finds what he’s searching for—me.
Holy shit. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. He’s looking at us. Do you see that? Do you? DO YOU?
Mase’s face breaks out in a smile but falls a moment later.
He points to me then himself, pulling at his jersey and lifting his hands in question. Ah, he wants to know why I’m not wearing his hoodie.
I pantomime my response back, shaking my head while pretending to be cold. He nods his understanding, and then in the biggest shock of all, he blows me a kiss before turning around.
Oh. Em. Gee. *spirit fingers*
Our exchange hasn’t gone unnoticed. G and CK look at me with knowing smirks while I hear others around us trying to figure out who Casanova was blowing kisses to.
That familiar surge starts to bubble up inside me, but I try not to think too much about it and focus my attention on the game. Our defense holds the Wildcats, forcing them to punt. Mase, Trav, and the rest of the offense take the field.
On first down, Mase performs a beautiful block, creating a hole for Alex to run through for a thirty-yard run. The first play sets the tone for the rest of the drive, and seve
ral plays later, Alex runs the ball in for a touchdown. The crowd goes wild.
7-0 Hawks.
The remainder of the first and almost all of the second are a battle of defense, neither team able to get into scoring position. The Wildcats finally manage to punch through and we end the half tied 7-7.
During halftime, we all take a bathroom break, and by the time I return to my seat, the temperature has dropped enough for me to need the hoodie.
I worry the cotton between my fingers, getting lost in thoughts of the past. I’m no longer sure if the goose bumps coating my arms are from the chilly breeze blowing through the stadium or an almost PTSD-like side effect.
Dating is supposed to be fun. Boy likes girl, girl likes boy. Why do other people have to get involved and make it more complicated than that?
Why does it feel like I’m about to put a target on my back? Why can’t it just be a hoodie?
Deep breath.
Here goes nothing.
I pull it over my head and straighten the material down. Mase is so much larger than me the hem of it covers my knees.
I can feel the moment G and CK notice the large NOVA and #87.
“Damn. I guess he wasn’t kidding about being serious,” G says.
I don’t acknowledge G’s comment or how much of a Neil-Armstrong-type step this is for my relationship with Mase.
Behind us, people talk, and based on the few words I’m able to pick up on, I know my brothers aren’t the only ones who’ve noticed the stamp on my back.
The teams make their way back onto the field, and like earlier, Mase goes behind the bench to find me in the stands. He looks so good down there with his helmet lifted on his head, the ear pads resting on his temples to keep it up, and his mouth guard hanging out to the side. The sleeves of his jersey are tucked up under his pads, displaying his bulging biceps in all their glory.
When he sees me in his hoodie, he smiles so wide his dimples appear. Damn those dimples. He blows me another kiss before heading out for the first play of the second half.
The Hawks come out guns blazing, and the punt return gives them good field position on their own forty-five. Trav runs the ball for a first down, and Mase gets another nice block for Alex to run for the next first, finally ending in a beautiful twenty-yard spiral from Trav that connects with Mase, who runs it in for a touchdown.
14-7 Hawks.
Our defense comes out swinging as hard as the offense. Kevin sacks the quarterback hard, causing a fumble that the Hawks run in for another TD.
21-7 Hawks.
The hundred-thousand-plus capacity crowd roars with the momentum generated on the field below. The action doesn’t let up for the rest of the game, but the score remains the same, with the U of J Hawks defeating the Northwestern Wildcats 21-7.
#Chapter35
UofJ411: Looking for me @CasaNova87 ? #ISeeYouBaby #CasanovaWatch
*picture of Mason looking up at the stands*
@Behawks87: Who is @CasaNova87 looking at? #YouLookingAtMe
@Bellebookblog: @CasaNova87 can look at me like that any day of the week #HolySmolder
@Bestiesandbooks: Pick me, pick me @CasaNova87
* * *
UofJ411: *kissy face emoji* #PuckerUp #CasanovaWatch
*boomerang of Mason blowing a kiss*
@Braun.lauren: I’m fully stocked on ChapStick @CasaNova87 #PillowySoft
@_Bsdmbutch: I’ll show you 7 minutes in heaven @CasaNova87 #MwahMwah
@Caysmama: Give me some sugar #KissTheGirl #CasanovaWatch
* * *
UofJ411: OMG! Is that one of the player’s team hoodies? #DoYouHaveAGirlfriend #CasanovaWatch
*picture of Kay from the back wearing Mason’s hoodie*
@Cheril2412: SHUT THE FRONT DOOR!! Who is this? #CasanovaWatch
@Christyheartsbooks: Holy shit! That’s @CasaNova87 team hoodie #Fashion
@Cmd427: Does @CasaNova87 have a girlfriend? #AskingForAFriend
@Cr8zysockbookblock: Say it ain’t so @CasaNova87 #HeartBroken
@Dainer81: How did we not know @CasaNova87 was accepting applications for GIRLFRIEND? I would have applied #IVolunteerAsTribute
@Doterragirl2020: Please tell me this is his sister or something? #ItCantBeTrue #CasanovaWatch
* * *
UofJ411: Who has the deets? #CasanovaWatch #CasanovasMysteryGirl
*picture of a side profile shot of Kay wearing the hoodie*
@Filthylittlereader: Is this the chick he’s been spotted kissing around campus? #DetectiveWork #CasanovaWatch #CasanovasMysteryGirl
@Fununderthecovers: Who is she? #NeedTheDeets #CasanovaWatch #CasanovasMysteryGirl
@Hbietsch: Who has the 411? #INeedToKnow #CasanovaWatch #CasanovasMysteryGirl
#Chapter36
The locker room after a win is one of my favorite places to be. “Say Amen (Saturday Night)” by Panic! At The Disco blasts, and the controlled chaos of two dozen players in various states of undress and celebration is a spectacle in and of itself.
The reporters allowed access make their rounds, not fazed by the naked skin on display. I give my sound bites when they make their way to me, keeping to canned responses on what I think about our chances of making it to the national championship again and if I’m prepared for the draft. The former is easy—Hell fucking yes we are taking it all this year; the latter is lacking some of my typical conviction.
What is that about?
Press gone, I sit on my bench and reach inside my locker for my phone to text Kay.
Having her in the stands tonight was like a jolt of adrenaline to my system. Seeing her in my hoodie during the second half? Fuck me if that wasn’t a better feeling than our win.
Unlocking my phone, I see I have a bunch of messages waiting for me.
LIVI: Shower quick! I’m hungry! Nomnomnomnomnom!!
* * *
OLLY: We’re meeting you in the tunnel. We’re going to Fusion.
* * *
MOM: Great game, honey. Nice TD. The twins are gonna meet you in the tunnel. We’re going out to dinner to celebrate. Tell Travis his Nana is here and will be joining us as well.
* * *
BRANTLEY: Good game, son. Nice to see you having a girlfriend isn’t affecting your game. I was worried you were going to be too distracted to focus when I saw you looking to the stands, but the way you are trending right now is marketing gold.
* * *
SKITTLES: Since you won does that mean I HAVE to go to the AK house tonight??
I’m not even going to answer Brantley’s text. I picked up on his less-than-pleased response to learning I have a girlfriend during all the drama last night. The fact that he now approves because he sees a way to use it as an advantage…yeah, that’s not happening.
Checking the time stamp on the twins’ texts, I realize I have just enough time to shower without worrying about them loitering in the tunnels too long.
Kay is the only one I bother responding to. If I’m going to dinner, so is she.
ME: Today’s your lucky day, babe. No AK tonight, dinner with the fam instead. Meet me and the twins outside the locker room.
* * *
SKITTLES: Wasn’t I subjected to enough family time last night?
* * *
ME: Suck it up, buttercup! You’re coming.
* * *
SKITTLES: Do I have to??? Can’t you just come over after?
* * *
ME: Nope! I don’t want to wait any longer to see you.
* * *
SKITTLES: Why do you have to go and say things like that? How am I supposed to say no now?
* * *
ME: OMG! *gasp* Did you just admit to being charmed by me?
* * *
SKITTLES: Don’t let it go to your head, hotshot.
* * *
ME: *GIF of Han Solo saying, “Who? Me? Never!”*
* * *
SKITTLES: *eye roll emoji*
* * *
ME: See you soon, babe.
; I don’t bother waiting for her confirmation. I know she’ll be there.
“Dinner with Nana,” I say to Trav, removing the rest of my pads and uniform and wrapping a towel around my waist.
“Livi texted.” He mirrors my actions and we head for the showers.
Unlike away games where the dress code is suit and tie, home games only require us to wear red polos with the Hawks logo, dark jeans, and black sneakers.
With a grin on my face because Kay has admitted it’s a sexy look on me, I pull my Hawks cap on backward.
Shouldering my bag, I turn to Trav. “Meet you outside. I’m gonna go find the twins.”
Pushing through the doors, I scan the hallway for my people. The place is crawling with boosters, press, fans, and jersey chasers.
“Mase!” My siblings spot me first and rush me with hugs.
“Hey, kids.” I return their embrace.
“Where’s Trav? I’m hungry.” Livi looks behind me. It’s no wonder the two get along so well—they are both ruled by their stomachs.
“He’ll be out in a minute.” I search for Kay.
The crowd parts and I finally spot her. She’s so beautiful it makes my breath hitch. Her tiny body is practically swallowed up by my hoodie, and her long blonde-and-rainbow curls are held back from her face by a red bandana tied like a headband.
Without realizing it, I break away from Livi and Olly and stalk in her direction. I put my hands underneath her delectable ass, squeezing the cheeks as I lift her against me and press her to the wall behind her. Her beautiful gray eyes widen in surprise before closing in pleasure at the feel of my kiss.