“I won’t leave you.”

“You almost did today. You told me to leave you.” It came out sounding accusatory, but that shit hurt; it hurt to know I didn’t yet have her full trust.

“It was a misunderstanding,” she said firmly, but I heard her heartbeat increase slightly as I laid my head on her chest, causing me to look up at her in concern.

Swallowing, she asked, “Truthfully, Rome, how much trouble are your parents going to cause us?”

I didn’t know that answer. I wish I did. There was a chance they would let everything go and cut all ties with me once and for all, but knowing my folks, I was preparing for the exact opposite. They could really try and hurt us. And I would protect my girl if it was the last thing I did.

18

“Tide star QB’s lucky kiss with girlfriend to save the season!”

I smirked at Reece as he read tonight’s headline from the game report, thinking back in amusement to Molly cringing in the stands as the crowd chanted for her to come to the field and kiss me, wearing the Tide jersey I’d left on her pillow for her this morning—my number on the back, of course, with another sappy note attached.

My jersey for MY girl to wear at the game.

Sit with Ally and I’ll come to collect my good luck sweet kiss.

Your Romeo X

Yeah, yeah, I was whipped, and I honestly couldn’t give two shits about it. In fact, I f**king loved it.

Her legs had shook the entire way to the field, but pride burst in my chest as I showed the hundred thousand fans in the stadium and millions around the world that Molly Shakespeare belonged to me.

As she approached my place at the sideline, I could see her eyes focused on the floor, her lips moving as she muttered words of reassurance to herself. I bet she never thought in a million years that my begging her to come to my game, in the library all those weeks ago, would result in her being put in the spotlight to kiss her quarterback boyfriend due to superstition.

As she stood before me, I inched forward, gripping the nape of her neck, making her focus only on me and, pressing my forehead to hers, I whispered, “Hey, Mol.” With that she relaxed, a tiny smile on those pink lips.

“Hey, you.”

“You going to give up that lucky sweet kiss?”

“If that’s what you want.”

She had no idea how much.

“It most definitely is.” With that I leaned in and kissed her, my tongue searching for hers—duelling, lapping, owning—and then I broke away before I got too hard in my tight football trousers—family game and all.

The Tide won.

Molly was praised for the power of her lucky kiss, and then my bastard cousin chased me from my girl and ordered me to come back tonight at nine; she’d planned something for Mol. But only Christ knew what she was up to.

It hit eight forty-five and I couldn’t wait any longer, so me and the guys headed out to Mol’s sorority house. It was like withdrawal whenever we were apart, and I knew it probably wasn’t healthy, but quite frankly, I didn’t give a shit about that either.

Knocking on the sorority house door, Reece, Austin, Jimmy-Don, and I were greeted by the jock from the other night—Cait, was it? Perfect, we’d hit it off the first time so well.

After rolling her eyes and groaning in disappointment right in my face, Cait left the door open and made her way up the stairs, looking back only to snap, “Stay there. Don’t come upstairs! I’ll tell the girls y’all are here.”

Jimmy-Don looked at me and took off his Stetson, shaking his head. “Cait, Turner, soccer jock and all-state champion. Heard she kicked the crap out of Cody Brown for grabbing her ass a few weeks back.” Raising his eyebrow, he asked, “What you done for her to gun for your blood?”

Shrugging, I replied, “Barged in to speak to Mol the other day and kind of wrestled her off the stairs when she tried to outmuscle me.”

Austin just shook his head, laughing. “I swear Rome, you sure know how to treat women. If they’re not spreading wide for your moody ass, they’re trying to kick it!”

“Carillo, f**k off.”

As we waited for the girls, Jimmy-Don launched into a story about one of his brothers back in Texas who was into racing monster trucks. He was talking animatedly about a flip when Reece began tapping me on my arm. Shrugging him off, I turned my attention back to Jimmy-Don, trying to figure how the hell he moved the story on to cow tipping back in high school, but Reece didn’t quit, and after a few seconds, I was ready to knock the little f**ker out.

Swinging around, I asked, “What? Fuck, man, back off!” But Reece just pointed up the staircase, ignoring my attitude, mouth gaping open.