Scoring the Player (Campus Wallflowers #3)

by Rebecca Jenshak

Friday night, also known as two days without kissing Dahlia, I go to the basketball game with Lucas.

I don’t want things to go back to the way they were. Not if that means we dance around each other and barely talk. If this is what it means to be friends, then I don’t want to be her friend. I never wanted to be her friend.

I missed this. Missed him.

“And now?” “I think I was screwed long before that.” One side of his mouth lifts into a smile that I can feel when he presses his lips to mine. “Me too.” I rest my fingertips on his jaw.

“Be my girlfriend, hot stuff.” “What?” My hands still. “I want you to be my girlfriend. For real this time.” He sits up. “You’re right. Nothing about this feels casual. It never did. I want to be the guy taking you home, not the asshole sitting across the bar watching you with some other guy.”

I don’t just want to be the guy taking her home. I want to be the guy who watches her kick everyone’s ass at flip cup, the guy who makes her ramble and blush, and I want to look up from the field at every game to see her cheering me on (preferably in my jersey). I want her.

Eddie snaps. “That’s what it is. You’re in love. I knew something was different.” My face instantly warms. “I’m not…” I start, but then I think about it. Really think about it. I’ve always been attracted to him, but it isn’t just that. I like spending time with him. He makes me smile and laugh. Sometimes I still feel absolutely frozen and nervous around him, but he also has a way of putting me at ease and making me feel so wanted and cared for. Besides, would I really want to be with someone who doesn’t make my heart feel like it’s going to leap out of my chest? I might not like how I clam up around him, but it’s the equivalent of a gut check. Maybe some of it was fake, but I think most of it was more real than either of us realized. I never would have let myself fall for him, but I’m glad I did. When I blink and look back at Eddie and Jane, they’re both grinning at me. “Well, crap. I think I’m in love with him.”

I wish I were there. Not because I want to stand on the sidelines wearing his jersey where everyone can see, but because I want to show up for him like he has for me the past couple of months. He’s always the first person to tell me I’m amazing, and I want to be that for him.

Felix is kind and funny. He’s considerate and dedicated and loyal. And he’s the best hype man. I feel sorry for you that all you saw was a hot, successful guy to stand next to, because he’s so much more than that.”

“Yes. My answer is yes. Of course, I want to be your girlfriend. If that’s still what you want.” The smile on my face couldn’t get any bigger. “I think you made that very clear to everyone at the party with your speech back there, hot stuff.” She laughs and a faint blush creeps onto her face. “I meant it. All of it. You’re the best person I know.” I press a kiss to her lips, lingering there to soak up this feeling.

It’s never felt like this. Nothing feels better than being connected to her, body and soul. She owns me. It’s too soon to be as gone for her as I am, but I hardly had a choice. She came into my life like a snowstorm in the desert. Quiet and beautiful and completely unexpected.

“Ask me what I’m thinking.” Her expression is happy and amused. Or maybe that’s just my own happiness reflected back. “What are you thinking?” she asks. My pulse kicks up before I even say the words. “I love you.”

“If you’re not there yet⁠—” Her hand shoots up and covers my mouth. “I love you too.” I exhale audibly. “Of course, I do. How could I not?” The relief I feel makes me dizzy. “It’s my abs, right? Maybe my charm and wit. Or my magic fingers.” “It’s all of you.” She tangles her hands into my hair and kisses me. That’s the thing about Dahlia. She sees past all the superficial bullshit. I’m not just a guy with terrific arms (her words, obviously), or a successful college quarterback, or a guy most likely heading to the NFL. That stuff doesn’t mean anything to her. I have no doubt she’d support me the same way if I were playing beer league softball. And as long as she’s there cheering me on, the rest will work itself out.

I swear I played darts with one other guy once and the man has boycotted the game for life. “You won. I’m all yours. I think you can let it go.” “Never,” he says, but he’s smiling. “It wasn’t ever really a competition, you know? You own my heart.”

She gasps. “Is that…” she trails off, then starts again. “Are you…” I find I’m a little frozen now that this moment is here. Everything I want depends on her answer. “I love you so much. I know the next year is going to suck being apart, but I don’t want to wait another day to ask you to be mine forever. Marry me?”

I put the other ring on her right finger. “Then they’re both yours. Two rings for the number of lifetimes it’s going to take to show you how much I love you.”