Before I can finish that sentence, Honey covers my mouth with her hand. “Zach. We’re in public.”
She takes her time to move her hand, but once she does, I’m grinning. “You didn’t seem to mind when I was on my knees for you.”
Her cheeks turn pink, but once again, the moment’s ruined by more chanting. I give her a quick kiss. “Ten minutes. East Entrance. Go around the back and don’t be late, or I’ll have to come and find you.”
“What if I like a little hide-and-seek?”
“Then I’d still find you,” I say, already backing away and grinning like an idiot. “When are you going to realize I’d follow you anywhere, Honeycomb? Even to that prison you call a dorm.”
With one last wink, I turn and jog toward the locker room tunnel, ignoring the disappointed cries from the stands, because the only girl I’m showing up for is the one still standing there in my jersey.
“Thank you so much, Zach,” a girl says, smiling at a picture of me.
I force out a smile, my hand cramping as I sign what feels like the fiftieth poster thrust into my face. Despite all efforts to escape through the back entrance, the crowd found me anyway.
I take another poster and brace it against my knee to sign, but my attention keeps drifting to Honey. She’s by my truck, arms wrapped tight around herself, and shivering because I’ve made her wait in the freezing cold for almost twenty minutes. I feel like an asshole.
I hand the poster back, noting the stack of unsigned posters staring at me.
Where the hell did they get that picture from?
Yeah, I don’t care what Coach Summers says, I can’t keep doing this.
“I'm sorry, folks, that's all for tonight,” I finally announce, my voice firm but maintaining the friendly tone they drilled into me during media training. “Got someone waiting for me.”
I push through the crowd, ignoring the disappointed groans, and jog straight to my girl. She lifts her head slowly, and her lips part when our eyes find each other.
I know that look. I can see the heat behind her eyes. All I want to do is drag her behind the equipment shed and kiss her until she forgets her own name.
“Marry me?” I ask, almost absentmindedly as I approach her. It just slips out, but can you blame me? I want to stop all this pointless fawning and lock her down.
Now. Yesterday.Forever.
She huffs out a little laugh and stands on her tiptoes to give me a quick kiss.
I lean into it, my hands gripping her shoulders to keep her close, but she pulls away before I'm ready, then gives me a small smile.
“Not right now,” she whispers.
Still not a no. She never gives me one, which is why I keep pushing my luck, asking again and again even when she rolls her eyes at me.
One day she’ll say yes.
I just need to be patient.
“Something’s different,” I say, sliding an arm around her waist and tugging her into me until her chest brushes against mine.
That’s when I see it.
The twinkle in her eye. The dimples on her cheek that only show when she’s smiling genuinely.
“Honeycomb, you’re practically glowing.”
Her mouth curls into a smile. “Glowing?”
“Don’t play dumb,” I say, my focus dropping onto her lips. “You look good. Really good. Did watching me throw all those passes get you worked up?”
She lets out a soft laugh, biting her bottom lip, and fuck, it takes everything in me not to take over.