Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
“Yahoooooo!”
Mia and I are doubled over at Haymitch’s accidental Fred Flintstone impression as he zips from point to point.
The gang is loving this adventure place.
Missing my favorite team live in the NFC Championship Game is a major bummer, but it’s worth it to see everybody happy.
Mia’s birthday yesterday took precedence, so I planned around her celebrations.
No regrets. But I’ll ask Sophie to check my messages during the game so nobody ruins the surprise.
A ticklish jab from behind makes me jump. “Hey!” Only one person would dare use my ticklishness against me. “Sophie …” I swivel around with my best fake glare.
She’s all innocence—until she cracks. I reach for her, but she’s off. I actually have to try to catch her.
When I do, I throw her hips over my shoulder like a rag doll. “Nice try!” And I spin her around in circles.
“Aus-tin! Okay, okay, put me down.”
She’s still laughing and breathless as I slide her to her feet, and she smacks into my chest—oh, on purpose.
Snaking my arms around her, I push my luck on the PDA. “Hey, you.”
That glowing grin … I wanna buy her a cookie cake. And something sparkly. And this whole adventure park.
“Pretty sure I won that round,” I taunt.
She scoffs and reaches up to kiss me—not a peck. My nerves come alive.
“Okay, sure, you won,” I concede.
“Hey, Austin?”
Mm. My name. I will be eighty-five and still love hearing it in her voice. “Yeah, Soph?”
“I’m worried about you. How can I help?”
My heart swells and grows Grinch-style, but I shake my head. I have no idea.
“Safe to say you have a plan to ditch these clowns and take me somewhere tonight before we head back?”
“Am I so predictable?”
“That’s not predictable. It’s romantic. Your planning is one of the very best things in my life.”
And appreciation is my catnip.
“I hate to ask,” she says, “but would you be up for adjusting the plan somewhat?”
“Course.”
“I want to do something for you for once.”
“Hey. You do tons for me.”
“Not taking no for an answer, mister.”
She’s the feistiest little thing, and when she turns that spark on someone else’s behalf? Game over.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She draws up straight, like I’ve answered appropriately. “Can I tell you?”
“Yes, please.”
“Apparently in Korea there are these places where you can rent a room with a couch and watch a movie.” She steps away, painting a picture with her gestures.
“My friend studied abroad there and had the best time. Anyhoo, there’s one here in Dallas.
I checked, and you can watch the championship game live. ”
Oh … I tap Sophie’s watch to check the time. Game starts at three. There’s still time.
“It’s not that different from the Dark Lounge, except for three important features.”
“I’m listening.”
One finger. “You won’t be taunted about your Cowboys love affair.”
My team hasn’t been in the NFC Championship since I’ve been alive, and the guys do love to mock me.
Two fingers. “And the opposite of Flooders—it’s private.”
Uh-oh.
“I mean, the waiter comes in all the time, so it’s not like that. But that’s the third feature. You can order wings or whatever while you watch.”
Wings.
My voice drops too low. “Sophie. You’re speaking my language.”
She beams. “Just us. I’m hoping you’ll take a nap, during part of the game at least.”
I stare, head tilting forward. She has never uttered such words.
“What?” she says. “You need it. It’s a room with a couch, remember?”
I bob my head dumbly. Sophie, football, wings, nap. Some of my favorite things. I’m bone-tired, but I won’t be missing that game, even if I figured out how to sleep in a private room with this beautiful girl.
Thank you for her, for us.
Help me keep the balls in the air.
Oh right. I mean, help me find times to sneak away and get the rest I need.
“Uggghhh. I was going to let you make ground rules, and now we don’t even need any.”
Austin insisted on the room with two recliners instead of the sectional sofa. Now we can’t even cuddle. And it’s a T-shirt day.
“Oh, we still need ground rules, little lady.”
I roll my eyes with drama and curl up in the recliner—annoyingly comfortable—and lean toward him. “Yes?”
“No kissing until the last twenty minutes.” He smiles at my coy expression. “And you sit in your own chair.”
“Fine. If I can have a kiss now to hold me over.”
His eyes turn wary.
A hop-step later I’m at his chair, leaning on the armrests.
He’s right—this setup isn’t deterring me.
If this is the last kiss for hours, I’ll have to make it a good one.
I barely resist the urge to crawl into his lap, but my fingers twitch upward, brushing the biceps poking out of his sleeves.
“Do you by chance have a cowboy hat? Asking for a friend. Not picturing anything.”
He grins. “At home. Should I bring it to campus?”
“For my friend? That’d be weird.”
He laughs.
“But really, Austin—”
Oh.
His hands are suddenly in my hair, tugging me toward him. Lips crash into mine in the most intoxicating kiss.
A sound escapes me—half moan, half question. No words, so I just nod dreamily as he releases me, my hands still gripping his armrests.
His reaction to his name sends a chill up my spine. Blue-gray eyes gaze into mine, full of longing, but then—click—his jaw locks with determination. He pulls his head back.
In the shuffle back to my seat, I throw in an overdramatic shiver of pleasure and a smile over my shoulder.
Humming “Cowboy Take Me Away,” I press a button to lift the footrest. This chair really is comfy.
And really, whatever it takes today for Austin to live his best old-man life.
Is this what a relationship looks like? I never saw my parents do this give-and-take stuff.
It’s maybe a tiny bummer at first, but then it feels …
good. Great, even. I’m obsessed with that lazy grin on his face, and I got to put it there. What a thrill. A terrifying thrill.
He assures me he’d rather skip the nap, even orders a huge coffee, but the second his wings are demolished, he’s out. I’m torn, but I can’t bear to wake him up.
As I scroll through my treasured Songs of the Day playlist, I pop in an earbud. “Banks” hits hard. I want this for him. I creep over, click his phone to silent, slip back into my chair, and send him a text.
Remember when you sent me Banks by NEEDTObrEATHE?
Now it’s from me to you.
You don’t have to handle it all alone.
I wake to Sophie’s warm voice in my ear. “Austin. It’s a close game. Do you want to watch the end? Or wait and see it all in a row?” She’s holding the remote, aimed and ready to switch it off at a moment’s notice.
Where did she learn the importance of not ruining a game? Did I mention that at some point? This all feels like a fantasy, but that’s Sophie for you.
“You’re better than a dream,” I slur, rubbing my eyes. I won’t have time to watch more than the highlights later, so I’m thrilled to have the last quarter. “Watch the end.”
Then I catch her signing the bill, and I about pitch a fit.
She brushes it off, telling me she should get to treat me sometimes and to get over it.
Her feistiness wins out. This woman is a riptide, pulling me into deeper water.
It’s scary, but I’m here for it. I want this with her. I want all of it.
A glance at the time says we’re almost to the twenty-minute mark.
How does a guy scrounge up superhuman self-control on the regular like this? To my right, temptation pulls hard. I’m dying to go over there … yet dreading my own animalistic instincts. How do I take care of her—protect her—when I can’t even trust myself? How do people do this?
No wonder Caleb didn’t. Zero judgment now.
Help?
This feels impossible. How am I supposed to act right?
Levi doesn’t have to do this. Their crazy commitment to no kissing makes more sense all the time. Not that I’m signing up for that. No way.
“Kissing you is my favorite.” Sophie’s voice jolts me out of my thoughts. “But I only want to if it makes you happy too.” Her brows gather in concern.
I jerk up. “What? No, it definitely does.”
“You look terrified over there.”
“Oh. Maybe I like you too much?”
She half-smiles, tilting her head. “Ice cream before the others pick us up?”
My breath out is almost a whimper. Giving up those twenty private minutes is a gut punch.
The second we step from the building into the fresh air, I haul her into my arms and sink into her lips. My affection and appreciation bubbles out into a manic, desperate kiss. I have to rip myself away.
She slow blinks, floating.
Someone walks by on the sidewalk, but who even cares.
“Soph, I gotta tell you something.”
A groggy noise.
I squeeze her arms. “Thank you—for seeing me. For taking care of me today. In all the ways. And also …” Buck up. She needs to know. “I love you.”
And then she’s wrapped around my neck, her lips back on mine. Kiss after kiss, all over my mouth.
Staggering, I get my arms around her small frame just as she slows.
“I love you too,” she says against my lips. Her hands slide up my neck and into my hair.
When she pulls back, I peel open my eyelids.
Those latte eyes smile into mine with wonder, thawing me out and heating me up—straight to boiling.
She loves me.
Wow.
It’s time for some ice cream. Pronto.
Song of the day
“Love Your Love the Most” by Eric Church