“For your support, for being his friend.”
“What can I do? I love that arsehole.”
I laugh, shaking my head.
“I know that the last time you were at the stadium it was a bit strange.”
“I was terrified,” I say honestly, and he rewards me with a broad smile.
“But I’d love to have you there,” he says, full of confidence. His eyes lock onto mine, leaving me breathless. “If you’d like to, or if you don’t already have plans.”
“Really?”
“What?”
“You really want me to be there?”
He takes a deep breath. “I want you there,” he says with a tone that is both full of confidence and begging me at the same time.
“VIP seating?” I ask, biting my lip.
He stares at my mouth intensely and my body flushes with an unbearable heat.
“Your name is written on that seat, Riley. It’s just waiting to be filled.”
And I don’t know why, but my heart comes alive with the idea that he’s not referring just to a seat in a stadium.
