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I winked. “You’ll see.”
Once we got to the field, the players did their own pre-game rituals of stretching, sideline throws, or quietly sitting on the bench to get their heads in the game. Seemed a lot like meditation to me.
I glanced up at the stands to find Lark seated with Justin and Leah a couple of rows behind my parents. Before I chickened out, my legs carried me up the steps two at a time until I got to his row. He just stared at me, stunned, then stood and shuffled closer.
“What are you doing?”
“Coming to see my guy,” I replied with a smirk.
“Oh, um…well, good luck in the game or break a leg or something,” he said in this cute, awkward way.
Justin guffawed. “Pretty sure breaking a leg is not a good idea.”
Lark’s cheeks grew crimson as I laughed and pulled him to me. I hugged him so tight that I lifted him off his feet, which wasn’t hard to do. I almost swung him around, I was so happy to see him in the stands, but I knew he’d be mortified.
He tried to make games as much as he could and even brought Star and Pete with him one time, which was awesome. They couldn’t stay afterward to party in the clubhouse, obviously, but I didn’t care. Instead, I met them for dinner at Shorty’s, which was a nice surprise for Lark’s mom. She sent us home with warm doughnuts, of course.
“Everyone’s looking at us,” Lark muttered in my ear.
“Does it matter?”
“Sort of yes…sort of not,” he replied because despite being out, it was also hard for him to be the center of attention. And I got why.
But he was the center of my world, and I wanted everyone to know it.
“Because your boyfriend is a football god?” I teased as I set him down.
“And not cocky at all.”
We held hands a lot on campus, which was the extent of our PDA. We saved our more intimate moments for behind closed doors or in the bell tower, which was still our sanctuary, though the groundskeeper had nearly caught us one day.
Lark straightened his shirt as his cheeks turned even redder, likely because there were plenty of eyes on us. “Don’t you have a game to play?”
I nodded. “But first, do you know it’s our anniversary?”
His eyebrows scrunched together adorably. “Huh?”
“The anniversary of when we met as kids.”
“No way!” He knotted our fingers together, and I leaned forward to peck his lips. “You’re gonna break a lot of girls’ hearts.”
“Eh, I’m okay with that.”
Lark grinned because he secretly loved it when I made it clear I only wanted him.
“Anyway…” My hands shook as I unrolled the shirt I’d brought with me. Somehow this was more nerve-racking than the actual game. “I, uh, got this for you.”
His eyes grew adorably wide. “It’s a jersey with your number on it.”
“Will you wear it? I bet it’ll bring me luck.”
“I’d love to.” I helped him slip it over his shoulders, but it was so large it hung to his knees. “Maybe it’ll shrink.”
“It looks good just like that,” I said, and he grinned. “Gotta go. Wait for me after?”
“Of course.”
My parents looked stunned as I started down the steps—they had obviously watched the entire display. I bussed my mom’s cheek before jogging all the way down.
