15. Homecoming

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The sound of lockers slamming echoes off the walls as coach calls us in for a group huddle. Everyone gathers around to form a lopsided circle, squeezing in around the lockers and benches, all eyes on coach.

"Boys, I don't have to remind you how important this game is," coach says, his eyes, almost hidden by the brim of his cap, sweeping over every single one of our faces. "We've been busting our asses for weeks to prepare for this. Now let's go out there and win this thing!"

Cheers and hollers erupt throughout the locker room, everyone getting pumped up and putting their game faces on. Everyone lines up to file out of the locker room and head to the tunnel that leads to the field where we'll run through the banner to hype up the crowd.

Coach stops me just at the door, gripping my shoulder.

"Kick ass, Miller," he tells me quietly, his eyes stern and proud.

"You got it, coach."

He slaps me on the shoulder and follows me out to the tunnel where I find my teammates, jumping up and down or restlessly moving around on their feet, getting hyped up for tonight's homecoming game that just so happens to be against our biggest rivals.

I scan the group for Chase, finding him towards the front of the pack. His arm has healed just in time for the big game, but coach is still going to ease him back into it, not giving him much field time. I know he's bummed about it, but it's a miracle he's getting to play at all.

I lock eyes with Chase, his brown eyes staring back at me with intensity. He gives me a nod, determination written across his face.

I make my way to him, smacking hands and bumping helmets before heading to the front of the line, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

I crack my knuckles, stretching a bit while I anxiously wait for the announcer to call us. As soon as he does, the crowd erupts and we go running out onto the field, busting through the banner.

We gather on the sidelines, and my eyes immediately scanning the crowd for a particular brunette. I find her almost instantly, sitting where I instructed her to, ten rows back, in the center section of the packed bleachers. I was afraid I'd lose her in the sea of maroon, but I know I'd eventually find her in any crowd. Giving her a specific spot just helped.

Our eyes lock and that sweet smile graces her face, causing me to smile instantly. But my smile quickly fades, almost as fast as it came when I realize she's sandwiched between Delilah and rat boy.

My mood instantly plummets after seeing her next to that pale ass little asshole. Why in the hell is he here?

My hands curl into involuntary fists at my sides, my skin heating with anger despite the cool, crisp October air. He looks bored, like he'd rather be anywhere else, and damn I wish he was. He probably only came here to keep tabs on Olivia, the obsessive little rat.

To make matters worse, my eyes flick back to Olivia to find her not in my jersey. Instead, she's wearing a school pullover.

I instantly frown, crossing my arms over my chest, irritated.

Sensing my bad mood, her brows pinch together in confusion and she does that adorable thing where her head tilts to the side.

"Where's my jersey?" I yell, even though it's impossible for her to hear me over the crowd.

"What?" I see her yell, her browns pinching even closer together and eyes squinting, trying to decipher what I'm saying.

I take off my helmet.

"Jersey!" I yell, pinching the collar of my jersey between my thumb and forefinger, tugging at it to signal to her.

Her eyes clear in realization, and she straightens. Reaching down, she grabs the hem of her pullover, tugging it up to flash me my jersey that she's wearing underneath.

I bite the inside of my cheek, trying my best not to smile at seeing her wear it. But I wanted to really see her wear it, loud and proud. Not under some damn pullover.

I shake my head, crossing my arms back over my chest, my stance firm. "Uh-uh."

Her lips form into a cute, confused pout, and damn does it make it hard for me to be mad at her.

"Over the pullover!" I instruct.

Her pout becomes more prominent. "Then I have to change," I'm almost positive I see her mutter. She also adds something about it being cold out.

I shake my head, not letting up. A bet is a bet, and I'll be damned if she doesn't hold up her end.

"Over. The. Pullover." I demand, sternly pointing towards the restrooms where she can go change.

I watch as she heaves out an exasperated sigh, arching a dark brow as if to ask really?

I don't back down, staring at her intently. She's crazy if she thinks I'm going to let this slide.

After a few moments, she realizes I'm not going to give up, and our little showdown ends. Shoulders sagging in surrender, she taps Delilah on the shoulder, asking to get by. She shimmies her way down the row past people to the stairs.

When she reaches the bottom of the stairs she flashes me an exasperated, but fond, good-natured look, childishly sticking her tongue out at me.

Two can play at this game.

Smirking, I pucker my lips, blowing a kiss at her.

She falters a bit, her eyes widening and cheeks burning an undeniable shade of red, making me laugh. Adorably flustered, she hightails it to the restrooms, her long ponytail swishing back and forth behind her as she practically runs.

Amused, I turn my attention back to the field for a moment, watching all the pre-game activities go down. After a minute, I turn back around to just catch Olivia coming back from the restrooms, my jersey on full display over the pullover.

My heart seems to do a backflip in my chest.

They say one of the hottest things ever is when a girl wears your clothes, especially your jersey, and with her... fuck.

The maroon fabric just hits her mid-thigh, loose and flowy on her tall, willowy frame. Damn, what I would give to see her in it and nothing else. I can only imagine how long and lean her legs would look peeking out, maybe her hair a bit tousled around her shoulders as she sits on my bed... But for now I'll have to settle for her wearing it with her black leggings and pullover underneath.

Halfway to the bleachers, her eyes lift up to capture mine. She gives me that slow, small, shy smile and it takes everything in me not to run to her. To grab her face in my hands and kiss the absolute hell out of her. To possess her. But I know I can't do that. Not here. Not now. That would be too aggressive. I'd want to take my time with her, savor every precious moment.

One day, I think.

All hot and bothered and itchy and needy, I try my best to turn my focus on the field, trying not to let my eyes drift over to her too much.

After the coin toss and accurately calling out heads, I jog back over to the sidelines, stealing a quick glance at Olivia to find her back on the bleachers between Delilah and rat boy, eyes glued on me.

I throw her a grin, and shortly after I see someone approaching me from my peripheral vision.

"Hey, Bronx."

I turn my head just as Adrianna's fingertips graze my bicep, running down my arm to squeeze my forearm. Those piercing green eyes sparkle with mischief and a hint of trouble.

"Have a good game," she says, purposely making her voice low and raspy to sound seductive. She stands on her tiptoes, planting her lips on my neck as high as she can manage with my helmet on. Her lips lightly suck at the skin, her tongue poking out to softly lick.

I quickly recoil, taking a step back.

She lets out a soft chuckle, a naughty smirk on her plump, glossy lips. "I'll catch up with you later to celebrate," she promises before sashaying away, back to the dance team in her uniform that consists of short shorts and a cropped long sleeved shirt.

Cursing under my breath, I bring my hand up to where she kissed me, trying to wipe away the lingering burn of her lips. And it isn't the good type of burn.

Daringly, I quickly glance over my shoulder to look into the stands at Olivia. Her eyes are cast down, her shoulders slumped while rat boy's beady little eyes seem to glitter in delight at my misfortune. I end up locking eyes with Delilah, and she looks disappointed, frowning at me. I give her a helpless look, not knowing what else to do. It wasn't my fault, and I certainly didn't reciprocate Adrianna's actions.

Beyond frustrated, I'm relieved when the whistle is blown and I have to get my ass out onto the field, needing to blow off steam.

Game on, I think, adrenaline rushing through my body.

With less than twenty seconds on the clock, the score unbelievably close, I'm hiked the ball. I catch it with ease and my eyes immediately dart to my teammates, calculating. I realize Hudson is open, and without another thought, I throw the ball long to him. He catches it and starts running towards the end zone like a mad man, and the crowd goes absolutely nuts.

Just as Hudson is about to make it to the end zone, a player from the other team grabs him by the back of the jersey, causing him to go tumbling forward. He stretches his arms out as far as he can before everyone jumps on top of him to form a dog pile.

Everyone on the field goes running to the end zone to see where the ball has landed. I take off my helmet and jog over there, my eyes scanning the clock on the way over to realize there's less than three seconds left. That means this play can either make or break us.

We all seem to hold our breath as the refs peel each player off of the pile one-by-one. When only Hudson is left, it's clear to see that the ball is in the end zone, and the ref calls out a touchdown, solidifying our win.

Everyone erupts into cheers, and suddenly, like magic, a cooler full of Gatorade is dumped over my head, soaking me before everyone seems to attack me all at once with congratulations and praise. Sometime during the mix, my teammates lift me up onto their shoulders, chanting, and I take the opportunity to scan the crowd. Finding the one person I'm looking for, I point to her, grinning uncontrollably.

Olivia smiles, looking excited and proud, clapping. Delilah stands beside her, cheering us on while rat boy looks like he wants to drag the both of them out of here as fast as he can.

Too bad.

"Wait for me!" I call out to Olivia as the team heads to the locker room with me still on their shoulders, leaving me no choice but to go with them.

After a record speed shower and some more congratulations from my team, as well as coach, I'm finally able to sneak out of the locker room and back out to the field where people are still loitering, celebrating.

I spot Olivia and her friends near the bleachers, talking amongst themselves. Sauntering over to them, rat boy's beady little eyes hone in on me, turning to slits. With her back to me, I walk up behind Olivia, casually slinging my arm over her shoulders.

"Hey, Finch."

She tips her head back, looking up at me through long lashes, smiling. "Hey, congratulations!"

"Thank you." I smile down at her.

"Great throw," Delilah comments on my last play, the bright field lights reflecting in the lenses of her thick rimmed glasses, and her dark curly hair blows in the breeze. "Way to show those preppy assholes they'll never beat us, no matter how hard they try."

I chuckle. "Thanks, Dee."

A sharp gust of cold October air rushes through, sending a zip down my spine as it whips through my still damp hair. The cold air bites into my skin, especially the tips of my ears, and I tug at the back of my hoodie, pulling the hood up and over my head.

I feel Olivia shiver, and she wraps her arms around herself, trying to ward off the cold. I pull her closer to me, trying to huddle and share body heat, earning me a glare from rat boy.

Delilah rubs her hands together for warmth. "Let's go over by the fire, shall we?" she asks, already heading towards the large bonfire set up at the far end of the parking lot.

"Or we could just go home," rat boy mutters not so quietly under his breath.

We all walk over to the fire, my arm still hooked around Olivia's shoulders. There's a crowd around the fire, everyone trying to seek warmth in either the flames or the red solo cups of liquor being passed around.

"Shots?" Some random frat boy approaches us, offering up the red solo cups in his hands.

"You still driving?" Delilah asks, looking over her shoulder at Olivia.

"Yeah," Olivia replies. "Go ahead, Dee, I'll drive you home."

"You're the best," she says, grinning. "Don't mind if I do." Delilah accepts the cup, downing the liquid inside. She reaches for the other cup in the man's hand, offering it to rat boy. "Here, Quinton, you could stand to loosen up."

I choke back a laugh.

"I'm fine," rat boy spits, indicating he's anything but fine, his jaw tight and ticking in frustration.

"Sure," Delilah drawls dryly. Not letting the shot go to waste, she downs that one as well.

"You guys want anything?" the frat boy asks, looking at Olivia and me expectantly.

"No, thank you," Olivia replies.

He gives her an understanding nod. "Miller?"

"Nah, man. I'm good," I say, not wanting to drink around Olivia when she's going to be sober.

"You sure? You were the MVP out there tonight, you deserve it," he presses.

"No thanks, man," I insist.

"Alright," he says, still lingering around for a few more moments, thinking I'll change my mind, before heading to the next group.

Another harsh gust of wind comes through, causing the flames of the fire to whip around and a shiver to run down Olivia's spine.

"Cold?" I ask, running my hand up and down her arm, trying to provide her warmth.

The light of the fire dances across her face, and I can see the tip of her nose is starting to get red from the cold.

"I'm okay," she lies, just as another shiver racks through her thin frame.

"Come on, Finch, I have an extra hoodie in the truck" I say, grabbing her hand and lacing our fingers together, pulling her towards the other end of the parking lot.

"Where are you going?" I hear rat boy ask.

"We'll be back," I say, not even bothering to look over my shoulder at him.

Halfway across the parking lot, I find Chase talking to a red head from the cheerleading squad, the both of them looking a bit intoxicated and very flirty.

"Hey, man, can I have the keys?" I ask, interrupting their flirt fest.

"Sure thing," he says, struggling to dig them out of his pocket, throwing them at me. I have to dive to the left a bit to catch them.

"Hey, Olivia, right?" he asks, pointing at her, remembering her from that one time I brought her to our room. His glossy eyes hone in on our intertwined fingers, and a wicked grin splits across his face. "So are you going to be coming back to the dorm late tonight?" he asks me suggestively, basically asking if I'm going to have sex with her, knowing I never bring girls back to our place to hookup.

I mentally groan, wanting to punch him in his stupid, blond headed face. "No," I almost growl in response.

"So, what time do you think you'll be back to the room?" he asks quizzically, and I already know he's planning on taking red back to our dorm room.

"I don't know, I'll text you," I say, avoiding adding to see if the coast is clear.

He gives me a lazy, drunken smile. "You're the best."

"Whatever," I mumble under my breath, walking away and leading Olivia towards the truck.

I let go of her hand to unhinge the tailgate, hopping up into the bed of the tuck to the large toolbox attached to the back, using the key to open it. Amongst all the stuff Chase keeps in there, I find the old hoodie I stashed away in case of an emergency. I pull it out and lock back up the toolbox, turning around to see Olivia sitting on the edge of the tailgate, her legs swinging about a foot from the ground.

"Here, Finch," I say, jumping down onto the concrete to stand in front of her.

I hand her the hoodie, helping her put it on. When she has it pulled over her head and down her torso, I reach back and pull her ponytail out from the hoodie, draping her long caramel hair over her right shoulder.

"Thank you." She blushes, shying her gaze away from mine.

I place my hands on her thighs, spreading them apart so I can slot my body between them. It was meant to be a fairly innocent move, until I hear the little hitch in her breath.

"Thank you for coming tonight," I say sincerely, trying to find her eyes. "Look at me, Finch," I demand softly, running my hands up and down her thighs soothingly. I look down, loving how large my hands look on her body. The hem of my jersey peeks out from beneath the hoodie a few inches, putting a smile on my face. I lean forward, my lips close to her ear. "I told you you'd look great in my jersey."

Her body tenses, and I shift my gaze to see the pulse in her neck jump.

I run my hands up a little higher on her thighs, the hem of my jersey starting to drape over my thumbs. Startled, one of her small, cold hands grabs my wrist while the other lands on my shoulder, not as to push me away, but more so to brace herself, her spine straightening. Her legs gently squeeze a fraction around my hips.

"Finch?" My voice comes out low and gravely as I pull away to look at her face to find her still shyly casting her eyes down. I raise my hand, hooking a finger under her chin to lift her eyes to mine.

When those warm honey colored eyes lock on mine, my heart does this slow, long jump in chest. Her gaze is so soft yet intense, and for a moment I swear it drops down to my lips, a look of yearning flashing across her face.

Just as my hand slides up, my palm resting on the side of her neck as my thumb strokes her jaw, her hand on my shoulder slides down to my chest. Her long, thin, delicate fingers toy with one of the strings from my hoodie, and her eyes bounce from her fingers, lingering on my lips, before sliding up to my eyes.

Instinctively, I lick my bottom lip to moisten it, leaning in to test the waters. When she doesn't pull away, I lean in closer, until our breaths seem to mingle together, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Olivia!"

She jumps, and a frustrated growl crawls up the back of my throat. I shoot my gaze over my shoulder to see rat boy stomping towards us, Delilah worriedly running after him, stumbling over her feet to catch up. His tiny hands are clinched into fists, to the point where I'm sure his knuckles are turned white, and I can practically see steam coming from his ears.

"Let's go," he demands, like an overbearing father, flaring my temper.

"Hey, don't dare talk to her like that," I growl, removing myself from Olivia and walking towards him.

He puffs out his chest, trying to seem intimidating, but his eyes give him away. I can see deep down he's scared shitless, and he knows he would never be able to get a swing on me.

Delilah stops in her tracks, knowing there's nothing more she can do. She knows he's fucked. All she can do now is stare helplessly.

When there's less than ten feet between us, I feel a pair of hands grab my forearm, stopping me from going any further.

"Bronx," Olivia's soft voice says my name, it coming out strained. She appears in front of me, placing her hands on my chest to prevent me from going any further. She looks up at me helplessly, pitifully, practically begging me with her eyes not to bash his face in.

"Dee, take Quinton to the car, I'll be there in s

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