34. Skyler

In Nebraska, the week is divided into two periods. Football Saturday and waiting for football Saturday.

The waiting would have been a piece of cake if Reese had given me the time of day.

But she’s on the job hunt and didn’t have time for our ‘lessons’. That was her excuse, anyway. But that conversation in Josh’s house has been haunting me. She’s been the fearless leader in this little arrangement between the two of us. I figured she knew what she was doing. She certainly expressed herself well enough.

But that little show of vulnerability, the fact that she thinks I’d be ashamed of her, of us, reveals a crack in this whole thing. Maybe that should be my sign to back off, but I don’t have the heart to disappoint her. And I’m just not ready to have her leave my life. It’s just going to be up to me to make sure I’m doing a better job of taking care of her.

And I can’t do that if I can’t see her.

I finally twisted her arm, demanding she give me a practice date.

I could give a damn about practicing for the next woman, I just wanted some of her time.

And if I could combine spending time with Reese with one of my favorite things in the world, football, that’s a win-win.

Lincoln’s a cool enough city on a normal day, but on a game day, it’s electrified. I love the atmosphere. The fall air, the excited hum of the crowd as people converge on the stadium. You can hear the pep band in the distance, drums going rat-a-tat-tat.

On a game day, the stadium becomes the third most populated place in this state. They’ve had a sixty-year sellout streak. Normally, I get pretty caught up in that tradition, feeling like I’m a part of something big and storied.

But today, all I can think about is Reese and that damn jersey she decided to wear.

The jersey, by itself, isn’t to blame. It’s got to be an extra, extra large because the sleeves nearly hit her elbows and the hem skims her ass. But therein lies the problem, because underneath that oversized jersey, she is wearing extremely short shorts. Invisible shorts that make it seem like she’s wearing the jersey and nothing else. She’s got on sporty sneakers and her dark hair is twisted in a bun on top of her head. All in all, she is looking very cute. Very preppy. And very tempting.

She’s oblivious to how sexy she looks. But everyone else has noticed. I’ve lost count of the number of horny men I’ve caught staring at her bare legs. Holding her hand, fingers intertwined, hasn’t been enough to stake my claim. They’re still looking.

Giving up on sending a message, I elect to hold on tight instead. Putting my arm around her, I walk her through the stadium entrance. We weave our way up the stairs, listening to the sound of the crowd grow, and then we step out into the blinding light. All across the stadium, people are flowing in, turning the stands red and white with Husker gear.

I lead her to our seats, watching her lift up on her tiptoes so she can take in the stadium. She looks over at me with a broad grin on her face.

I wonder if it would be too early to plant a kiss on those lips. “Did you go to many games when you were in college?”

Her smile slips. “A few. Not too many. None of my friends were into football.”

There’s a sour note to the way she says the word friends. As long as I’ve known Reese, she’s been a football fan. She hollers at the screen right alongside the best of us. It surprises me to know that a Husker fan like Reese would have passed on something she loved when it was literally two blocks from her dormitory.

I sense her mood is taking a dive and I’m sorry that I brought it up. My hand slips out automatically and I reel her in. She leans against me, her hand planted on my chest. Only the thin cotton from my t-shirt separates us and I’m starting to think maybe taking Reese somewhere else, somewhere more private, would be more fun.

I sneak a glance over her shoulder, tugging the jersey up to reveal her ass.

She squawks, batting my hand away.

I chuckle. “Just checking to make sure you have pants on.”

“I do. Obviously.”

I shake my head, grinning at her. “No. Not obviously. Barely.”

She glowers at me, but there’s a twinkle in her eye. “These are the standard issue jean shorts, thank you very much.”

“If you say so, but that is not a standard issue ass, and those poor shorts are doing everything they can to keep up with you.”

She whacks my arm. “Are you calling me chubby?”

“I’m saying they’re sexy. Too sexy. I’m going to have to beat off these rabid fans.”

“I guess I better stay close to you, then.”

“That’s a good plan.”

I pull her closer, sliding my hand into her back pocket.

She does look hot, and I’ve got the semi to prove it. But I wasn’t kidding when I said these fans can get a little rabid. ‘Nebraska Nice’ is only in effect when we win. If we lose, lord knows what these fans are liable to do.

And when you’re looking like a sexy little snack like Reese is, you’re liable to attract trouble.