I was taking being the quarterback’s girlfriend to a whole new level. I was wearing Wes’s jersey along with a pair of skinny jeans and a pair of gorgeous leather boots he had had embroidered for me with my initials inside. I knew the price tag on those alone was over a thousand dollars. He liked to spoil me, and I was starting to like it too. I pulled my hair back in a ponytail and slipped on silver hoops.

I looked at myself in the mirror. I didn’t look like a surgeon. I didn’t look like the girl who had graduated at the top of her med school class. I looked like some girl so in love, she’d do anything to see her boyfriend play football.

I heard the knock on the door. Too late to undo this now, I reminded myself. I was in it. Totally in it.

The driver dropped me off under the stadium and showed me where the elevator was that I was supposed to use for Wes’s private box. I wore the credentials tag he gave me around my neck and showed my ticket to the security guard at the elevator.

“Go Wranglers,” he grunted as the elevator doors closed.

My first AFA game, and I was going to sit in the most elite player’s box in the stadium. I’d seen the boxes on TV. But up close, I knew this would be a completely different experience.

Two weeks ago, I was on my couch, watching Wes walk the sidelines, and now I was here as his girlfriend. His number one fan.

I pushed open the door to the suite, and came face to face with a man with broad shoulders and an eerie resemblance to Wes.

“This is a private suite, ma’am. There’s an usher in the hall that can help you find where you’re supposed to be.”

“Oh no, this is where I’m supposed to be. Wes Blakefield’s box?”

The man looked at a woman, who was picking through a tray of fruit. “Gloria, did Wes mention this to you?”

She looked me over. “No. Honey, who are you?”

Oh God. This was embarrassing. Horrifying. I knew it even without them having to make the proper introductions. These were Wes’s parents. How could he not tell me his parents were going to be in the box?

I stretched my hand forward. “Hi, I’m Lennon. Wes’s, uh… Wes’s friend.”

Gloria dropped the strawberry in her hand and came over to meet me. “Honey, aren’t you sweet? I’m Gloria and this is Bud. We’re the parents.” She smiled.

“It’s so nice to meet you both.” I wanted to tell them how great this was, but I’d heard nothing about Wes’s mom, and the only thing I knew about Bud was how he drove his son to be a compulsive winner.

Bud scratched the back of his head, and I pretended not to notice that I’d seen Wes do that same exact thing when he was working through a problem.

“So, Wes invited you here? To our booth?”

I nodded. “Yes, sir.” I held up my ticket as if I had to prove it to him.

Gloria tugged on his arm. “Bud, it’s his box. Don’t be an ass in front of the girl.”

It was hard to smile. The tension was filling the deluxe stadium box. I didn’t know if there were enough beers in that bar to lighten the mood or not.

“I’ll just stay out of your way and you won’t even know I’m here.” I walked to the front of the glass and admired the field.

The cheerleaders were running with flags across the end zones. At least I had watched a few games with Wes, so I should be able to keep up. I didn’t want his parents to know I was a complete football idiot.

Gloria sat next to me in a leather seat. “I’m glad Wes has a friend.” She held a beer in her hand. “It’s usually just Bud and me up here. This will be fun.” She handed me a cold bottle.

“Thanks.” I smiled at her. I could see where Wes got the green in his eyes.

“So what do you do, honey? Model?”

I choked. “Oh God, no…I mean, sorry. No, ma’am. I’m a surgeon at San Antonio Mission Hospital. In orthopedics.”

“And you’re with my son?”

I nodded. “Mmmhmm.” I was going to need more than just this first beer.

“Well, isn’t that something?” She turned over her shoulder. “Bud, did you hear that? Lennon is a surgeon.”

“Surgeon? Not a cheerleader or a swimsuit model? Huh.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Gloria whispered. “Once the game starts, you might as well cover your ears anyway. I bring these.” She revealed a pair of earbuds from her pocket. “He curses so much I have to listen to the game on my phone. Can’t stand to listen to him yell.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say, but I had a feeling I was getting ready to get a first-hand account of how Wes Blakefield became the man I knew.

She patted my hand. “Glad you’re here, honey. I need a girl on my team.” She winked and planted the earbuds in her ears.

I took another sip of beer and watched the introduction for the Volts while the San Antonio fans booed. I sat forward in my seat as they began to introduce the Wranglers. Every player’s picture popped up on the jumbo screen, but when they announced Wes’s name, the place went insane. It was deafening.

“Just play some damn ball. Enough with the circus show,” Bud grumbled behind us.

But I didn’t let him ruin the moment. I watched as Wes ran onto the field, waving to the fans, smiling that gorgeous smile of his, and my heart clenched in my chest. He was mine. Millions of fans could cheer. And his parents could sing his praises. The cheerleaders could do somersaults all day for him, but Wes Blakefield was all mine.

* * *

I waited outside the locker room with Bud and Gloria after the game. I stood behind them, knowing this was part of their game ritual with their son. Bud made sure I knew they belonged here and I was just along for the ride.

He explained to me that Wes would have to finish up with the team, then a press conference, and then wrap with the coaches before he would see us. He also told me he knew every coach and trainer on the team, pressing the point he had been a part of this machine a lot longer than I had.

Wes walked through the door, freshly showered, in a dark suit and tie. God, I loved how sexy he looked like that. But before I could throw my arms around him and congratulate him, his mom kissed him on the cheek, leaving a big lipstick mark. It wasn’t something I really wanted to follow.

“You missed three receivers out there, son.”

“Hey, Mom.” He kissed her on the opposite cheek and ignored his father. “I guess y’all met Lennon.”

I tried to act cool. This wasn’t the time to berate him. Bud would cover that enough for me.

“Oh yeah, we met her.” Bud pushed in front of me. “Who was calling the plays today? Why didn’t you run the route we talked about?”

Gloria and I followed behind them. I was annoyed that I didn’t get so much as a hug.

“Are you and Bud driving back to Austin tonight?” I asked.

“Yes. We only come up for the games. We travel to every one of them.”

“Every one?” I hoped my voice didn’t sound as squeaky as I thought it did.

“What about you, honey? Will we see you in D.C. next weekend?”

I hadn’t thought about it. Wes hadn’t invited me, and we were still taking things one day at a time, even though I felt like this was some kind of time bubble we both lived in.

“Playoffs are his busiest time of the year. If you think you’re going to see him at all, you might want to make some other plans,” she warned. “Traveling with the team might be your best bet.”

Oh God, his mother was giving me advice on how to see him. This was getting worse and worse. I overhead Wes and his dad arguing about a call on the field. The conversation was getting heated, so I decided to butt in.

“Wes, I’ve got that early surgery tomorrow, so maybe we could get going?” I wrapped my hand through the crook of his elbow, not giving Bud any choice but to step back.

“Oh, that’s right.” He smiled at me. “You know, Lennon’s a surgeon.”

“She told us all about it.” Gloria gripped her Wranglers purse. “We need to get on the road anyway. It’s hard for Bud to drive when it gets dark.”

“That’s not true,” he grumbled.

“Thanks for coming up for the game.” Wes hugged his parents.

“It was nice meeting you both.” Gloria wrapped me in a hug before I knew what hit me.

“Maybe we’ll see you next week, honey.”

“Maybe.”

They headed to the reserved parking lot while Wes and I stood in the tunnel and watched them walk away.

“So, how’d you like my parents?” He smiled wickedly.

“Oh, you are so making this up to me.” I crossed my arms.

“Is that a promise?” He waggled his eyebrows.

I rubbed the lipstick off his cheek. “I’d hate to interfere with your concentration for the playoffs.”

“Baby, I’m taking you home right now.”

I looked around to see if there was a reason he had grabbed my hand and started to run. “What’s going on?”

“We’re celebrating. The Wranglers are in the playoffs, you successfully survived meeting the Blakefields, and we are both getting laid.”

I laughed at his last statement. “Sounds like a lot for a Sunday night.”

He started the ignition. “Good thing I drive fast.”