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He elbowed her into a fit of giggles and focused on Ed, who perched so close to the edge of the bench it looked like he would soon fall off it.
Ed planted his elbows on his thighs and stared at the game. His throat kept jutting with swallows.
Finally Ed glanced over at Jack and offered a shy smile.
All of Jack’s instincts told him to take Ed into his arms and hold him tight. Tell him everything was okay and he’d protect him from anyone who dared give him shit. Instead he tapped a message on his phone and sent it.
Jack: I’m *really* enjoying the game now.
Ed shifted a little farther onto the bench and clasped the edge, hand within reaching distance. His other hand worked his phone.
Ed: Is that Brittany who’s eyeballing me?
Jack whisked around, catching Brittany in the act. She laughed and ruffled the back of his hair before leaning over him and offering her hand. “I’ve heard lots about you, Ed.”
Jack held his breath and let it go when Ed shook her offered hand. “Same goes for you, Brit.”
“Oh, I do like you.” In the same breath, Brittany turned to another shitty ref call and let out a chain of expletives.
Jack subtly leaned toward Ed. “You don’t want to get on her bad side.”
Brittany snorted. “He speaks from experience.”
Ed shuffled another notch closer. Brittany’s presence seemed to calm him, and Jack could’ve honestly kissed her.
Jack planted his hands on the lip of the bench an inch from Ed’s. An invitation if he wanted it.
“What colors are we rooting for?” Ed asked, and Jack launched into a quick rundown of the two teams. He kept his tone light, informative. Like he was politely answering the questions of a stranger.
Inside, though. Fuck, inside Jack was grinning like a fool.
At half time, Ed left the stands to get them all drinks, and when he came back, sat nearer. Shoulders more relaxed. Smiles flashing in higher frequency.
Brittany switched seats to sit on Ed’s other side, and Jack admired Ed’s silver tongue. It almost matched Brit’s.
Marcus’s team was getting a flogging from the refs, and Jack hurled insults with the rest of the Harrison crowd. When his brother got slashed and the ref overlooked it, Jack was on his feet. “What are you on?” Fuck, Marcus would have some bruise on his gut tomorrow.
He grumpily sat back down, elbow knocking against Ed. He immediately started to put space between them, but Ed clasped his pinkie and pinned it to the bench.
Jack’s anger at the game dissipated. Suddenly he needed it to be over. Needed to get Ed somewhere he could show him how much it meant that Ed had risked coming out to the game with him.
Jack messaged Ed.
Jack: Thank you.
Ed looked at him and smiled.
Jack: Is it presumptuous if I plan to spend the night?
Ed shook his head. “I’m counting on it.”
Jack shook his head, while Brittany sat with a slackened mouth. Ed winced as Harrison fans slowly filtered out of the stands, dragging their feet to the exits. The rows behind them roared in cheers.
“Worst refereed game ever,” Brittany said. “No way Marcus and Triston deserved twenty-five penalties in the first half.” A whistling wind whipped through the stands, adding to the noise around them. Brittany raised her voice. “How the ref missed that foul against Marcus, I’ll never get. I’m surprised there wasn’t a riot.”
“I’ve never watched a lacrosse game before,” Ed said, “but it seemed to me like Harrison was clearly the better team.”
“Hands down.”
Jack stepped back to let two guys pass, and his gaze landed on a girl a set of stands across from them. Not just any girl, this one wore a knee-length skirt, slightly higher up on one side than the other, matching her slanting hair, and she stood staring out at the field. Little Miss Nessa. Alone.
Little bells went off in Jack’s head, and his annoyance at the game faded beneath a small grin. No one who wasn’t a hard-core fan went to games alone. Nessa wasn’t even in the right colors.
Brittany reached around Ed and poked him in the arm.
“Huh?”
“I’m gonna push my way to the ladies’ room. Meet you at the Jeep, yeah?” She thumped Ed on the back and darted into the crowd.
Ed glanced at him, rolling on the balls of his feet, thumbs hooked into the loops of his jeans. “Think I’ll head back to the truck. I’ll catch you later.”
Jack nicked his chin, keeping it as low-key as he could. “Sure.”
“Tell Marcus better luck next time.” Ed whisked himself down the aisle, rubbing the back of his flushed neck.
He let out a soft sigh and slunk toward Nessa. “Well, surprise, surprise.”
She jumped. “What—?” Her gaze latched on to him, and a pink blush crept over her cheeks. “Oh.” She smoothed her skirt with the back of her hand and straightened her composure. “Fancy seeing you here.”
