“Are you guys ready to head out?” I ask them.
“We’re heading home,” Mom says. “We’ll see you for dinner on Monday.”
“Always.” I wave as they both leave.
“We’ve got our own plans too,” Gunnar says.
“I appreciate you guys coming.”
“We’ll be back next time with bells on,” Jameson says.
“I appreciate it.”
“What’s bells on, Daddy?” Troy asks.
“It means he’s excited and wants to have fun at the game.”
Troy’s face lights up as he spins to look at Jameson. “Does that mean you’ll bring some balloon animals next time?”
Jameson smiles down at my kid. “Of course, buddy. I’ll be sure to bring some for you and Lydia both.”
Now, it’s only the four of us. There are still a few groups of students lingering out in the parking lot. I’d always hang out with the guys after games when I was their age. It’s a rite of passage, hanging out with all the cheerleaders after a big win.
The only people I want to hang out with right now are in front of me.
“Did you have fun tonight?” I ask Sutton as we start to walk out toward our cars.
“I did. You did a great job out there.”
Troy and Lydia walk ahead of us with their heads close together. The two of them barely know each other and they’re already thick as thieves. The lights are still bright in the parking lot, keeping them in our view. Not that I’d worry about anything happening to them at my school.
“I’ve got a good team this year.”
Sutton smiles, linking her arm through mine. I feel her warmth against me immediately.
“At the risk of sounding cheesy, it was really fun watching you tonight.”
I squeeze her closer, breathing her in. Her smell floods my lungs, and damn, does it do all sorts of things to my head.
“I’m glad you came tonight and that we pulled out the win for you. I think you might be my good luck charm.”
“You’re 6-0 now. I don’t know if you need a good luck charm.”
That has me looking down at her. “You know our record?”
We stop short near her car, Troy and Lydia chasing each other around.
I feel like a kid in high school, trying to impress the head cheerleader.
Sutton shrugs a shoulder. “I may or may not have looked up the team stats.”
“Why does that make me happier than it should?” I confess.
Sutton looks up at me with wide, bright eyes.
“Maybe because it means I like you,” she confesses.
“I kind of like you too,” I whisper against her lips.
