We gather on the sidelines, and my eyes immediately scan the crowd for a particular brunet. I find her almost instantly, ten rows back on our team’s side of the field, in the center of the packed stadium. Although I was afraid I’d lose her in the sea of maroon, I know I’d eventually find her in any crowd. Her text telling me where her seats were beforehand just helped.
Our eyes lock, causing me to smile instantly. But my smile quickly fades almost as fast as it came when I realize she’s sandwiched between Delilah and Rat Boy.
My mood instantly plummets. Why in the hell is he here?
My hands curl into involuntary fists at my sides, my skin heating with anger despite the crisp October air. He looks bored, like he’d rather be anywhere else, and damn I wish he was. He probably only came here to keep tabs on Olivia, the obsessive little rat.
To make matters worse, when my eyes flick back to Olivia I find her not in my jersey. Instead, she’s wearing a maroon Garner University pullover.
I instantly frown, crossing my arms over my chest, irritated.
Sensing my bad mood, she pinches her brows together in confusion, and she does that adorable little head tilt.
“Where’s my jersey?” I yell, even though it’s impossible for her to hear me over the crowd.
“What?” I see her yell, her brows pinching even closer together and eyes squinting, trying to decipher what I’m saying.
I take off my helmet.
“Jersey!” I yell, gripping the collar of the jersey I’m wearing between my thumb and forefinger, tugging at it to signal to her.
Her eyes clear in realization, and she straightens. Reaching down, she grabs the hem of her pullover and tugs it up to flash me my jersey, which she’s wearing underneath.
I bite the inside of my cheek, trying my best not to smile at seeing her wear it. But I wanted to really see her wear it, loud and proud. Not under some damn pullover.
I shake my head, crossing my arms back over my chest, my stance firm. “Uh-uh.”
Her lips form into a cute, confused pout, and damn does it make it hard for me to be mad at her.
“Over the pullover!” I instruct.
Her pout becomes more prominent. “Then I have to change,” I’m almost positive I see her mutter. She also adds something about it being cold out.
I shake my head, not letting up. A bet is a bet, and I’ll be damned if she doesn’t hold up her end.
“Over. The. Pullover.” I point sternly to the restrooms where she can go change.
I watch as she heaves out an exasperated sigh, arching a dark brow as if to askReally?
I don’t back down, staring at her intently. She’s crazy if she thinks I’m going to let this slide.
After a few moments she realizes I’m not going to give up, and our little showdown ends. Shoulders sagging in surrender, she taps Delilah on the shoulder, asking to get by. She shimmies her way down the row past people to the stairs.
When she reaches the bottom of the stairs she flashes me an exasperated, but fond, good-natured look, childishly sticking her tongue out at me.
Two can play at this game.
Smirking, I pucker my lips and blow a kiss at her.
She falters a bit, her eyes widening and cheeks burning an undeniable shade of red, making me laugh. Adorably flustered, she hightails it to the restrooms, her long ponytail swishing back and forth behind her as she practically sprints.
Amused, I turn my attention back to the field, watching all the pregame activities go down. I turn back around just in time to just catch Olivia coming back from the restrooms, my jersey on full display over the pullover.
My heart seems to do a backflip in my chest.
They say one of the hottest things ever is when a girl wears your clothes, especially your jersey, and with her . . .fuck.
The maroon fabric hits her midthigh, loose and flowy on her tall, willowy frame. Damn, what I would give to see her in it and nothing else. I can only imagine how long and lean her legs would look peeking out, maybe her hair a bit tousled around her shoulders as she sits on my bed. . . . But for now I’ll have to settle for her wearing it with dark jeans and a pullover underneath.
