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She twists back around to face me, her purse snug in her lap. “Okay then. How about we make out? Oh, do you want to go under the bleachers like the high schoolers? Make a real show of it?”
“Sadie.” I rest my forehead on my steering wheel. “This is serious.”
“I am serious. Rumors will fly if we’re tongue-tied under the bleachers.”
“Why don’t I just lay you down at the fifty-yard line during half time then?”
She snaps her fingers. “Perfect. You’re so smart.”
“Jesus, Sadie.” I open the truck door and climb out, shutting it.
She’s already at the back of my truck by the time I get there. Her hands land on my cheeks, and she rises onto her tiptoes. “Relax. I’ll act all smitten, and you just have to touch me a lot.”
“I’m not a touchy guy,” I remind her.
She knows me well enough. Just holding her hand at her mom’s house earlier felt weird. Then again, over the years I have grown to love Sadie’s hugs. She fits perfectly in my arms, as though she’s meant to be there, and for a brief moment, I always forget she’s not mine.
She slides her hand into mine and pulls me forward. “Tonight, you are.”
I allow her to drag me, and I fall in line with her, tightening my hold on her soft skin and delicate fingers. “No one would believe that I’d let you lead the way.”
“Excuse me? Lead the way?” She stops just before we get to the gate. “Plenty of people would believe it if I was to drag you in, kicking and screaming, while holding your hand. Willowbrook knows you keep your emotions closed off.”
She has a point. If this was real, how would I really act? Probably hold her hand. Probably buy her popcorn. But I probably wouldn’t kiss her. Nor would I get all cuddly with her in front of everyone. I’m not a fan of public displays of affection. Ben is all over Gillian all the fucking time, and I have no idea why he’d want to share that with everyone and their mother. That’s Ben, not me.
“We just have to be a tad more affectionate than we usually are. You might have to whisper in my ear, and I’ll laugh like you’re the next up-and-coming comedian on Saturday Night Live.”
“I’m funny.” I’m starting to get a complex with some of the shit she’s saying these days.
“You’re hilarious. To me. With me. But not everyone sees that side of you. Come on. People are side-eyeing us already.” She walks ahead.
I grab her hand, linking our fingers tightly. “That’s a good thing. We’ll draw their attention as if we’re unsure how to come out.”
We reach the gate, and I pull out my wallet to pay for our admission.
“How are you guys? Almost missed kickoff,” Alondra, the president of the booster club, says as she takes my cash. She’s fishing for information. Always is.
“Had a hard time leaving my house tonight.” I wink, and Alondra turns to look at her sidekick, Tori, as if asking her if she heard me correctly.
Sadie slides her arm through mine and gets closer. When her breast brushes along my arm, my jaw tightens. Her hand runs up and down my arm. “Jude made me dinner.”
“Oh, how sweet,” Alondra says.
“What did he make?” Tori interrupts, pushing into our conversation.
“Salmon and my favorite garlic mashed potatoes.” Sadie refers to the meal I made the other night. Weaving truth with the lie. Smart.
“Don’t forget the green beans,” I say, and Sadie leans her head on my bicep.
“How could I? My favorite. See, Jude’s an asparagus guy, but he made my favorite instead.” Her hand keeps running up and down my arm, but neither nosy woman says anything.
“You’re finally here.” Lottie makes her way over from the concession stand. She’s got a tray full of food—pizza, nachos, popcorn, and a drink. Plus, a candy bar.
How does this woman survive on junk food?
“Stop judging. It’s my one cheat day a week.” She holds her tray with one hand and uses the other to dip a chip in the nacho cheese and eat it. She stops right next to Alondra. “Did you hear that my cousin finally got his head out of his ass?”
“I thought I noticed a ring,” Alondra says.
