Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
Bristol
I’m leaning against Anson, my body pressed to his side, and my fingers dig into his shoulder as I turn my head to whisper into his ear.
“What if we just snuck back to your truck at intermission?” I ask as the backs of his knuckles brush over the tops of my thighs just under the hem of my dress. It’s boyfriend behavior. Especially out in public like this. But I’m not about to stop him
“I think someone might figure that one out.” He grins. “Also, you do know it’s halftime and not intermission, right?”
“Same difference. It might be worth it though, right?” I look up at him with a devilish grin, and his eyes are fixed on me. Before he can respond, though, something grabs his attention, and he takes a sharp step away from me like we’ve been caught in the act I was imagining.
“Bristol!” Marlowe’s greeting comes from directly behind me, and I whirl around with a smile plastered on my face. “I wondered if you were going to be here tonight.”
“I didn’t know you were!” I state the obvious. It’s one thing to be tempting fate with half the town at the opening home game for Purgatory Falls High football. It’s another to be right in front of my friends who know me.
“I donated a big basket of treats and some gift certificates for tonight’s raffle.”
“That’s so sweet of you!”
“Speaking of raffle, I need to go put in for my tickets.” Anson nods off in the direction of the concession stand. “Marlowe.” He tips his cowboy hat in her direction, and she nods back at him before he disappears.
“Here, sit down. We’ve got plenty of room.” I pat the bench we were just standing in front of. Our blankets and my water bottle are already splayed out across the metal seat to save our spot for the game.
“You sure I’m not interrupting something again?” she asks as she sits, giving me a skeptical look.
“I told you that was a misunderstanding. It was dark, and we couldn’t find the light switch. Nothing untoward was going on.”
“And just now?”
“Just now?” I pretend not to understand her meaning. Was I really that obvious?
“You looked like you were having a pretty intimate conversation just before I got here,” she explains.
“An intimate conversation about third downs and run plays.” I repeat some of the things I’ve heard Anson say tonight hoping it sounds legitimate.
“Sports talk must be a secret turn-on for him then,” Marlowe jokes.
“What?” I continue to pretend to be naive as I take a sip from my water bottle.
“He was looking at you like you just offered to go fuck his brains out behind the bleachers.” She looks at me with concern as I choke on my drink and waits for me to resume normal breathing before she continues, “So something about women talking sports must be a thing for him. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. You just put the image of me and Anson fucking behind the bleachers into my head.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing. Half the women in these stands would probably happily volunteer for it.
He looks handsome tonight.” Her eyes follow him as he walks down the track toward the concession stand, and I feel the flare of possessiveness flush over my skin as I see a whole group of football moms very obviously ogling his butt.
How the hell didn’t I notice all this before? I can’t believe I was this oblivious.
“I didn’t say it was a bad thing. I’m sure he’s very capable in that department.”
Marlowe mutters something under her breath.
“What?” My eyes snap to hers.
“Nothing. Are you sure nothing’s going on between you two? You’d tell me, right? I’m not Hazel. I’m not going to run squealing to tell everyone in excitement.”
“Nothing’s going on.” I want to tell Marlowe, but I’d have to run that by Anson first. We agreed to keep this a secret just between us, and as much as I love Marlowe, I don’t want to betray Anson’s trust.
“If that ever changes, give me a heads-up?”
“Why?”
She sighs and shakes her head. “I don’t know if I should tell you or not. I think it’s going to blow over, but I don’t know when.”
“What’s going to blow over? What are you talking about?” I’m confused and my anxiety ratchets up a notch anytime this comes up.
“Jasper. He’s… I don’t know. I guess he thought something might happen between you two. And then he said you were seeing someone else. Did you just tell him that?”
I stare down at the ground, kicking a small rock off the bleacher into the gravel below. Time to come clean on that front at least.
“Yes. I’m sorry. It was a white lie, but I just didn’t want to have the conversation with him. I thought maybe something would happen between us, but then he kissed me.”
“I heard.” Her brow arches as she studies my face and sees the disappointment there.
“And I felt nothing. Just no sparks. No butterflies. No anything.”
“Oh god. I don’t want to have to tell my brother he needs help in that department. Is that what you’re telling me?”
“No. Not at all. His kissing is just fine. Good even. But that’s it. It was technically great. But...” I shrug.
“But a big fat zero in the sparks department?”
I nod.
“That sucks. With Hazel and Dakota being sisters now, I was hoping maybe we would get to have the same fate.” Marlowe gives me a mournful look.
“I would absolutely love that. I’m afraid it doesn’t look promising though.”
“It’s fine.” Marlowe lets out a deep sigh.
“I wish I had a brother you could marry. Then we’d be set.”
“I mean. You do, technically.” Marlowe nods at Anson, and my heart freezes in my chest. I don’t think about it often anymore.
I certainly haven’t thought about it much since we’ve been doing this.
I’d forgotten he belonged to anyone else.
Least of all my sister. I’d definitely forgotten that we technically still keep those titles even now.
“Anson hardly counts anymore.” I shake my head. “Besides, I thought it was another Briggs brother who caught your eye.” I glance back at her with a teasing smile.
“Don’t even start.” She shakes her head and sits up straight like I’ve hit a nerve.
“I’m just kidding.”
“Don’t!” Marlowe glares at me but then breaks into a smile as the announcer comes over the speaker, telling us to “Please rise for the national anthem!” The ceremony forces Anson to wait at the bottom of the stairs, and I’m once again confronted with all of the attention he garners just by existing at these small-town events.
I watch Ford and the rest of the football players run onto the field after the anthem but my focus keeps drifting back to his father.
When opening ceremonies are over and Anson turns to climb the stairs, his eyes searching for me in the crowd, my heart skips in my chest. The grin he gives me when he finds me forces me to bite down on my tongue to keep from smiling back.
My stomach flutters as he hands me the snacks he picked up for me and his fingers brush over mine.
I bite my cheek but the smile comes anyway.
I take a quick swig of the mulled cider Anson’s brought me, wincing at how blistering it is on my tongue.
But it’s a hit I’ll have to take for the team.
Marlowe would be calling me a liar in two seconds flat if she saw my face.
Because it would be obvious I’m crushing on the man.
Oh my god.
I can’t be, can I?
Am I crushing on him?
I feel like I’ve just touched a live wire with a thousand volts. I can’t think. I can’t even breathe.
I cannot be crushing on Anson Briggs. He’s not mine to crush on.
Definitely not mine to keep. This was supposed to be short and sweet.
Just a quick way to get over Chris and move on with life.
Quell all the questions that came up thanks to our late-night wedding rendezvous in the dark.
This was not supposed to, under any circumstances, turn into something more. It can’t.