“I don’t understand what they hope to get out of hanging all over the football players.” Honestly, I didn’t either, but I’d enjoyed the hell out of the attention. “Not your style?” “I don’t think so. I’d feel weird standing around touching someone without a goal. Despite my current location, I mean. Touching you feels right.” “Naturally,” I said, steering her toward my Jeep and trying to rationalize her words. She didn’t mean them the way Big Mac insisted on taking them.
