Layla
Dear Lisa,
I wore Ben’s jersey, and I cheered on the side lines for him. I even painted the number twelve on my cheek. His team scored the final touchdown, and Clark’s new girlfriend, Georgia, grabbed hold of my arms as we celebrated.
After the game, we met them outside beside Ben’s jeep. He picked me up and kissed me the moment he saw me. His arms wrapped around me, and he kept kissing my cheek while Clark, JJ, and some of the other guys talked about the game.
There was a party down by the lake to celebrate, and we decided to go.
I got in Ben’s jeep and sat beside Georgia in the back seat. She took photos of us using my camera.
The lake was packed out with people when we arrived. There was a guy with a large speaker blasting music, red cups scattered across the ground.
Ben took my hand, and we walked through the woods together. We stopped when we got to the bottom of a wooden pier. From there, we could see everyone partying on the edge of the lake.
“Have I told you how good you look in my jersey?”
I smiled. “Once or twice.” I tucked my hair, whipping around in the breeze, behind my ear and kissed him on the cheek.
“Do you want to go back to the party?”
“Not really,” he said. “I’d rather be here with you.”
He pushed his hand into my hair and pulled me to him.
There’s something that happens when Ben kisses me, it’s like a thousand sparks are dancing between us. Each time his skin whispers against mine, it ignites, and I’m convinced I could spend a lifetime kissing him and it still wouldn’t be enough.
It took me a moment to catch my breath. My heart swelled as I looked at him. He brushed my hair over my shoulder and kissed me there, then sighed against my skin.
“Layla?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”