82. Maddox
EIGHTY-TWO
As the teams switch places on the field, I lower my glasses down my nose so I can look over at Hannah.
We’ve been watching the game, sure, but she’s still been awfully quiet.
She notices me and turns her head.
“Everything okay?” I ask quietly, but since Chelsea is between us, it’s not private.
Hannah nods. “I’m really good.”
I watch her face for any signs of unease but don’t find any. “If you’re feeling left out about the necklaces, I can go get you one.”
“I’m pretty jealous, but I’ll survive.” She gestures to her eyes. “It’s a good disguise.”
I nod. “And they look cool.”
That gets me a laugh. “Keep telling yourself that.”
Hannah’s eyes dart to the row behind us, then she leans toward me.
I nudge Chelsea. “Smidge, scoot up a smidge.”
She huffs but slides forward on her seat so Hannah and I can lean together behind her.
We keep our faces turned forward, but it’s obvious we’re talking.
“I told the guys behind us that you’d take a photo with them after the game,” she whispers.
“Okay,” I whisper back.
“And, um, I told them you were my boyfriend,” she says nervously. “It’s just that they thought you were her dad and I panicked and I—”
I turn my head so I can press my lips to Hannah’s temple.
She stops talking.
“Little Bunny,” I whisper against her ear, making sure she hears me. “I am your boyfriend. And I’m the last one you’ll ever have.”