MAGGIE
When Aunt Coralee knocked on my bedroom door to wake me, I had a brief moment of panic until I saw West wasn’t in my bed anymore. I guess I hadn’t woken up when he’d left.
There was a note on the pillow where he had slept. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and then opened the folded paper.
GOOD MORNING, BEAUTIFUL. YOU WERE SLEEPING SO PEACEFULLY WHEN I LEFT. I DIDN’T WANT TO WAKE YOU. BUT TODAY I’D LIKE TO BE THE ONE TO TAKE YOU TO SCHOOL. I’LL BE BY AT SEVEN THIRTY. IF BRADY GIVES YOU A HARD TIME-, CALL ME AND HAND THE PHONE TO HIM.
He wanted me to ride with him to school. I glanced up at the mirror across from my bed and saw the smile on my face. It was a real smile, one filled with excitement and hope. For a long time that smile had been a stranger to me. Now I was happy.
Standing up, I walked over to the mirror, then reached out and touched the girl there. She was older than the one I once knew. Her eyes held more strength and maturity. But she was happy. That was familiar.
“You’d like him, Mom,” I whispered. “He’s wonderful.”
She would have wanted me to tell her everything about him. She’d squeal with me when I told her about our first kiss. She would listen to me talk about him and not get bored. She hadn’t just been my mother; she’d been my best friend. Knowing that West would make her happy for me made me feel even more complete. The emptiness that had become part of me wasn’t so empty anymore. West was filling it.
Aunt Coralee’s voice calling that breakfast was ready reminded me that I had to hurry. I wanted to let her know I was riding with West today. It was his game day, and I wanted to surprise him with my school spirit too.
I just needed to get Brady to lend me a jersey.
Fifteen minutes later I was dressed and headed to the kitchen. I had texted Brady asking him if I could borrow a jersey. He’d agreed and said he’d bring it to the kitchen for me. I also had a note in my hand that wasn’t asking, more like telling, Aunt Coralee that I was riding with West today.
When I got there, Brady was already at the table eating a plate full of eggs and bacon. He was wearing the blue jersey that he would wear tonight. There was another blue one folded up on the table that had his same number but looked like it had been worn more.
“Here you go. You can take my jersey from last year,” he said, a grin tugging on the corners of his lips.
Did he think it was silly for me to wear it? Was this something I shouldn’t do yet?
“Good morning, Maggie. I have your plate on the warmer. Let me get it.” Aunt Coralee paused and looked at the white tank top I was wearing and frowned. “Um, I don’t think you can wear that to school.”
“Oh, she’s not. She’s wearing my old jersey today,” he replied.
Aunt Coralee’s eyes lit up, and she smiled. “Well, that is so sweet! Isn’t it, Brady?”
Brady continued to look like he was going to burst into laughter at any minute.
“Sure is,” he managed to say before eating another forkful of eggs.
I decided to ignore him and went to slip the jersey on before handing my note to Aunt Coralee. She read it then smiled softly. “Sure, sweetie. That’s fine. I expected this.” Relieved, I took my plate of food from her hands and moved to the table.
“What did you expect?” Brady asked.
“That she’d start riding with West to school soon.” Brady smirked again. “So, she’s riding with West today?” I nodded as Aunt Coralee said, “Yes.”
Brady was being weird, so I decided to ignore him. I was excited about riding with West. I was excited about his seeing me in a jersey. I was also excited about just seeing him.
He gave me a reason to love life again. I’d not really lived in two years, and I finally realized now I had missed so much. Not speaking had protected me in many ways, but it had also isolated me. From everyone.
When Aunt Coralee walked upstairs, Brady looked over at me. “What I warned you about with West is still something you need to remember. But I admit he is different with you. I’ve never seen him treat anyone the way he treats you. So maybe this is more to him than other relationships have been. I’m just afraid you could be a crutch to get him through dealing with his dad’s death. When someone else he wants comes along, he might take her. You’d be forgotten,” he said, then he stood up. “Guard your heart. He won’t mean to hurt you. But in the end he might.”
A sharp knock interrupted Brady. He glanced at the door as I stood up. I knew it was West. I grabbed my plate and took it to the sink before hurrying to the door.
I opened the door. West smiled the moment our eyes met. Then the smile faltered as he looked down at my jersey. “You’re wearing Brady’s jersey,” he said as his eyes found mine again.
I smiled and nodded. I wanted him to be happy I was showing my support for the team, and for him.
Brady let out a snicker, and I turned to see him covering his mouth as he turned to walk up the stairs. Why was he laughing? Had I done something wrong?
West’s arm went around my waist, and he took my book bag with his other hand as he glared after Brady.
“Let’s go,” he said, sounding less than pleased.
“Did I do something wrong?” I asked, feeling sick to my stomach. West’s happy smile was gone.
He didn’t reply as he opened his truck door and put my bag in. Then he grabbed me by the waist and lifted me as if I were a child and couldn’t get in by myself.
Once I was in the seat, I was at eye level with him. He leaned in and kissed me. It wasn’t the sweet, tender kind of kiss I was used to, but it was just as good. I felt like he was marking me and trying to drink me in all at the same time. He had me clinging to him and melting against him by the time he pulled away.
“You can’t wear Brady’s jersey,” he said simply, then closed the door and headed for the driver’s side.
If I couldn’t wear Brady’s jersey, then why was he taking me to school in it?
“I need to change, then,” I said as he opened his door and climbed inside.
He nodded in agreement. “Buckle up,” he instructed me.
I did as I was told, and he pulled out onto the street and headed for school. I waited for him to explain about the jersey, but he never said anything. At all.
The five-minute drive to Lawton High was short, and I wanted to know why I couldn’t wear Brady’s jersey. I started to open my mouth, when West drove past the parking lot and toward the field house.
Was he going to make me take it off and leave it in there? Because Aunt Coralee was right; I couldn’t wear this tank top to school. I’d be sent home fast.
“What are we doing?” I asked as his door swung open and he got out. He closed it and headed to my side without answering me.
When he opened my door, he grabbed me and kissed me again before picking me up and putting me down on the ground. “We’re going to fix your jersey,” he said simply. Then took my hand, and we walked inside the field house.
It was deserted this morning, thank goodness. I didn’t want to see naked guys. That would be very embarrassing. West took me past a row of lockers, then stopped once he got to the large ones on the end. I saw his last name written above a locker right before he opened it up.
“Take that off,” he said as he reached into the locker to pull out a neatly folded jersey on the top shelf.
He was giving me his jersey. My heart rate picked up as I quickly took off Brady’s jersey. West turned to look at me and stopped. Instead of handing me the shirt, he stepped toward me and bent his head to kiss my exposed collarbone before burying his head in my neck and inhaling deeply.
I shivered but remained very still. I was afraid if I moved, it would break the spell. I didn’t want him to stop. I loved having him close to me like this.
His hand slid around my waist, and he held me against him as his tongue began to take little licks of my neck, followed by kisses. I dropped Brady’s jersey and grabbed West’s arms to keep my knees from buckling.
“Taste so good, smell so good,” he whispered as his mouth moved lower, and he brushed his lips across the tops of my breasts several times. I watched him in fascination.
He lifted his eyes to look at me as he pulled my tank top down a little to continue his trail of kisses. “I need to stop. But I need you to tell me to stop.” His voice was deep.
I didn’t want him to stop. Getting to class had taken a backseat to this.
“If I tug this down any farther, I’m gonna want more. More than you need to give me in a dirty locker room. I swore to myself the next time I touched you like this, I’d have you somewhere special.”
He had robbed me of words. I just stood there holding on to his arms as he cupped one of my breasts through my shirt and kissed the top of the other. Then he growled and closed his eyes tightly before dropping his hands and moving away. I felt cold with him gone. I wanted him back.
“Lift your arms,” he said as he picked back up the jersey he’d gotten from his locker.
I did as I was told, and he slipped it over my head. Once he was happy that I had it on properly, he stepped back and looked at me. “Just my jersey, Maggie. No one else’s. Ever. I don’t want anyone’s jersey touching you but mine. Keep this one. Wear it any damn time you want, but don’t ever put Brady’s on again.”
Oh.
Okay.
Oh my.
I nodded and resisted the urge to wrap my arms around the shirt I was now wearing, and cuddle with it. It smelled like West. I was never going to want to wash it.
He grinned. “My girl. My fucking jersey.”
