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“It’s not funny!” I come at him with a whirl of pom-pom furry this time. His eyes shut with the force of his grin, his laugh booming louder beneath the clear, open sky. He bats the poms away easily, crushing me to his body and bending to kiss me in a way that can’t be described as decent on school grounds.
“I love you.” The words come rushing out of me as his arms wrap around my back, pulling me into him. My chest fills with a flood of emotion. I cup his face in my hands and look into those gorgeous blue eyes that doomed me from the start. “It’s not too soon to say that, is it?”
“Are you kidding me?” He shakes his head like he’s in awe of me. “I would’ve said it first, and a lot sooner if I thought I wouldn’t scare you away.”
“Been holding back on me, have you?” I look up at him shyly. “If we both have, I guess it’s my fault. This was supposed to be my way of telling you I don’t have to try anymore. I’m all in, Theo.”
“All in, huh?” He tugs on one of my pigtails, fingers curling around my hair. No one’s ever looked at me the way he is now, with such love and affection it feels like my chest could burst at any second.
“All in.” I nod up at him. “I’m not holding back anymore. I love you, Theo. I trust you. I’m choosing to have faith in us because there’s no one else I’d rather be with than you.”
It’s a relief to finally get these words out.
I let out a squeal when he picks me off the ground, spinning us in circles. My arms wrap around his neck. I’ve never felt like this before. I never knew how happy loving another person could make me.
“You still haven’t said it yet,” I remind him as he sets me down, poking at his chest with a delicate finger. “Not that you have to if you don’t mean it, or need more time first—”
He shuts me up with a quick kiss.
“I love you, Marcela.” A hand brushes my hair back, grips the back of my neck until I’m looking up at him. “Don’t you dare ever think otherwise.”
“I won’t,” I tell him. “I promise.”
“Looks like the field is clear.” He flashes a wicked grin, the one I love so much. The one that started it all. “Let’s see that routine you came up with.”
I sit him down on a bench and pull out the poster I made for him. Theo’s eyes widen at all the blue and silver glitter. The sign reads GO COACH THEO with about nine exclamation marks after it, the number 29 written on every inch of free space in alternating colors.
“I hate to break this to you, but those aren’t our colors,” he says, trying to hide his smile behind a hand and failing. “Those are our rival’s… and we’re playing them tonight.”
“But…” I pout at him. “They’re the Cowboys’ colors.”
“I know.” He takes the poster from my hand, the edges curling from its time shoved in my backpack, and stares down at it like it’s the best gift he’s ever been given. When he glances back at me, his smile makes my heart melt all over again. “Thank you for this.”
“That’s not even the best part.” I pull out my phone and put on a cheer mix I found on Spotify. It takes me a moment to remember the moves I learned, but he doesn’t seem to mind my fumbling through the dance. Halfway through the routine, he stands up and pulls me onto the bench with him.
“Hey!” I shove at his chest with a blue pom-pom. “This isn’t supposed to be dirty.”
“Then let’s go home and make it dirty.” My thighs clench at the heat in his eyes. “Good with you?”
Home. It doesn’t matter if he’s talking about my place or his. Wherever Theo is feels like home.
“What time does the game start?” I ask. He tells me, and I calculate the amount of free hours that gives us. “Two and a half hours, not counting driving time.”
“Then it’s a good thing my place is closer.” He nips at my ear, and I resist a shudder. “Come on, before you get me fired.”
“Says the one who made it dirty.” I scoff at him playfully.
I’m giddy with every step we take back to the car, and not even from all the “I love you” sex we’re about to have. When we reach his car, he looks at me quizzically as I come to a stop beside the trunk. I knock on the metal twice, stalling.
“You might wanna check this thing before we get back.”
He reaches out an arm as I try to back away, make a quick break for my own car a few paces down the parking lot. “Marcela Ortiz, what did you stow away in my trunk?”
I gesture to the keys in his hand. “Only one way to find out.”
He pushes the button that pops his trunk, and all that giddy excitement in my blood turns into pulsing anxiety. What if he hates it? Or worse, what if he ordered one without telling me? He already ruined the first half of my surprise. I’ll scream into the sky if he’s ruined this one, too.
His face changes from wary confusion to Christmas morning in the span of half a second as he unzips the garment bag, and I know I landed this one. “You didn’t.” He glances over at me, then back down at the costume.
