The Guy on the Right (The Underdogs 1)

“She came last time. I told her it was too cold and to stay home.”

We both stand and shout our part as the Yell leaders start another chant before resuming our seats.

“Laney isn’t here?”

“She had to work.”

“How’s that going, man?”

“Good, really good.”

“Getting serious?”

“We don’t talk about it.”

“You mean you haven’t asked.”

“I’m not about to screw with something that’s not broken.”

“Well I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but prying eyes have been on us since we sat down.”

“What?”

“Check it out, nine o’clock.” I look to our left to see two sets of curious eyes watching us from the stands below. “Laney is making you look good, man, if it doesn’t work out with her, just know you have options.”

One of the girls gives me a wave, and I nod, giving a polite smile before averting my eyes.

“See what I mean?”

“Not interested.”

He jabs me with an elbow. “So, it is serious.”

“It’s new. We’re doing it our way. I’m not going to fuck it up by acting needy. Besides, she doesn’t work like that. She would rather choke before admitting she needs anyone.”

“I hear you. Lindsey was a little dick bitter when we got together. It took time to get her out of it.”

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I’ll tell you this much, she’s nothing like Nora. I don’t have to wonder if this thing is important to her because she looks out for me. She listens to me and my music, asks me about my day, and gives a damn about my moods.”

“Nothing like Nora.”

“Right,” I nod. “She works so incredibly hard, all the time, around the clock, in school, at home. She makes time for me even though she’s constantly running, but she makes it look easy even when I know she’s stressed out. I respect her. She doesn’t take advantage of me the way Nora did. It’s different with her.”

“Good for you, man.”

We both stand and yell when prompted and then raise our instruments to play the fourth of our five-song set.

Back in our seats, Zach turns to me.

“You have plans for after?”

Just as I’m about to answer, the lights go out and I’m seized from behind with an arm around my neck. The smell of citrus and mint fills my nose as a husky voice whispers in my ear. “Houseman, in the stands with the saxophone. Mystery solved.”

Turning in her hold, I ignore the catcalls filling the stadium as soft lips find mine, and she sinks into me when I eagerly meet her kiss, swiping my tongue along her lower lip just as she opens for me. Greedy, I push the dangling sax on my chest to the side before pulling her flush against me. Seizing her in my hands, I thrust my tongue into her mouth, kissing her thoroughly, the sensation of her moan vibrating against my tongue.

We’re still locked in the kiss when the lights come back on, and she pulls away, her eyes darting around in surprise. I follow her gaze to see a startling amount of cell phones poised in our direction, taking pictures. “I suppose the cat’s fully out of the bag now.”

“I don’t give a damn,” I say, stepping over the row of seats separating us, so we’re alone in the aisle above. I pull her to me and full-on kiss her again. When I close the kiss, she draws my freezing hands from her face to warm them between her own gloved hands. She spots Zach over my shoulder and greets him. “Hey Zach.”