“Let’s sneak under the bleachers, Tay.” He jerks his chin to where they sit a few yards away, and I widen my eyes at him. “Hell, no. I heard they found a cougar under there last week.” “Aw, are you scared? Need me to hold your hand?” I open my mouth to swear at him, but then his palm drifts down my arm, and his fingers curl around mine, suddenly making it hard to breathe. “Come on.” Next thing I know, I’m being tugged off the field toward the bleachers quickly, and he doesn’t drop my hand when we climb under them. Neither do I, for some reason. Though I should, I really should. My dad would
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