I want to run down there and hug him and tell him it’s okay.
But I can’t, so I watch from the bleachers, helpless.
Next to me, Alex keeps looking between Jason and Nate, chewing at his bottom lip so hard it’s probably bleeding. “If something’s wrong, maybe you should tell Nate.”
He jerks like I slapped him. “No. You don’t get it.I can’t.”
Before I can ask what that means, the band finishes, and the teams run back onto the field. Jason hangs back a step, and Nate claps a hand on his shoulder.
I wrap my arms around myself, the air suddenly feeling much colder.
The whistle blows.
For a tense moment, there’s stunned silence, and then our side of the stands explodes, cheers echoing across the field.
We won.
Nate is on the sideline, as stunned as everyone else, staring at the scoreboard like he can’t quite believe it.
Then, his face cracks open, revealing the biggest smile I’ve ever seen.
He shouts something, and the boys rush him, helmets off, yelling and hugging and celebrating.
Next to me, Alex exhales, relief evident in his face.
I stand up and hurry down the bleachers, weaving through the crowd of people leaving.
I have to get to Nate.
When he spots me through the chaos, his face softens into something different, only for me. And then, before I can even say his name, he’s striding toward me across the field.
“Nate,” I start, but he doesn’t slow down.
His hand catches mine, and he pulls me into him, cupping my face with both of his hands and kisses me.
Right there, in the middle of the field, surrounded by cheering players, students, and most of the town.
His mouth is hot and desperate on mine, and I feel a flicker of arousal trying to ignite in my gut. I don’t even remember where we are as his tongue dances with mine, consumed by desire.
When he pulls back, his forehead presses to mine, our breath visible between us. His thumb brushes my cheek and-
There’s a loud catcall from off to the side.
We separate to find a bunch of football players watching us.
“Holy shit, Coach!” one of the boys yells. “Get a room!”
“Damn, Coach, you bangin’ Ms. Patel?” another hoots, helmet tucked under his arm.
“Go Rams!” someone else shouts triumphantly.
Nate laughs, ducking his head before looking back at me, with shining eyes. “Sorry, couldn’t help it.”
“It’s okay,” I say, still dizzy from being kissed senseless. “I’m glad you couldn’t.”
The boys carry on teasing us, but there’s no malice, only warmth and camaraderie. Like they’re actually happy for him.
For us, even.
