Chapter 9
“Touchdown!” the announcer calls over the PA. “Number thirteen, Beckett Armstrong, just threw his third touchdown pass of the night, with two seconds to spare in the fourth. That’s another win for the Knights, ladies and gentlemen!”
I jump up and down, my gold and navy pom-poms waving high in the air, as Beck and his teammates celebrate their fourth consecutive win. Beck is the starting quarterback this year, which is unusual for a junior, but he’s been rocking it. There’s something to be said about small-town football. Everyone bands together each Friday to put the games on and support the home team as much as possible.
“Presley, that man of yours is on fire,” my fellow cheerleader, Nicky says. “If you ever get sick of him, I’ll take him off your hands.”
I playfully whack her with my pom-pom. “Sorry, Nic, he’s all mine forever and ever.”
She fans herself mockingly. “Oh well, a girl can dream. Oh, look, Mr. Hotness is making his way over here now.”
I can barely contain my joy as Beck runs across the football field in my direction. He’s sweaty, and he has helmet hair, but he’s still drop-dead gorgeous. I squeal when he pulls me into him and nuzzles my neck.
“Beckett, stop! Don’t be startin’ something you can’t finish.”
He kisses me hard. “Don’t worry, baby. There will be plenty of finishing later.”
I giggle. “Well, as long as you make sure I finish first, I’m good with that.”
“Honey, I always make sure you finish first.” Beck pulls me into a kiss that’s not so appropriate for a school event, but I can’t seem to help myself whenever he’s around.
“Gah! You guys are so adorable, it’s nauseating,” Nicky complains.
“I can’t help it if my girlfriend is the prettiest, smartest girl in the great state of Georgia.” Beck winks. “No offense, Nicky.”
She laughs. “Yeah, yeah, none taken. I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone so I don’t barf up those nachos I ate earlier. Presley, I’ll see you at the bonfire later?”
After every game, our running back, Miles, hosts a bonfire on his property. It’s our chance to celebrate together if the team won, or commiserate with each other if they lost.
“Yep, we’ll be there,” I say.
Beck waits until Nicky is out of earshot. “And I’llmeetyou by my truck after I get cleaned up?”
“Sure. Maybe we can take the long way to Miles’?”
Translation: Let’s park somewhere and do it in the truck.
He grins knowingly. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Pres.”