“Is this seat taken?” she asks. “Mark said he could only reserve ten seats and we’re busting at the seams over here.” She seems sweet, so I let her take the seat. There aren’t any Jacobses to fill them anyway.

I look around me at the stands full of big, happy families, ready to cheer on their sons, and my heart breaks for Austin. He deserves so much more than this. So much more than just me.

The general buzz of the stadium turns into full-volume cheering as the team comes charging onto the field. I can’t help but get swept up in it all and scream along with the horde.

I’m able to pick Austin out of the rest of the crowd of uniforms as he jogs out onto the field. He’s imposing in general, but in all those pads, he is positively god-like.

Yep, I’ve tapped that.

Oh, God. I’ve been friends with Jackie too long.

I haven’t seen him since he left my apartment Friday morning about thirty-seven hours ago.

Yes, I might be counting.

And suffering from withdrawal.

I bite my lip and try to push aside the memories of what’s under those pads. It’s pointless. I’ve got a stupid, goofy grin on my face when Austin glances up into the stands. His eyes are scanning the crowd.

Is he looking for me?

Before I can think better of it, I lift my arms up and wave stupidly to get his attention. And to my horrifying embarrassment, it works. A wide smile spreads across his handsome face as he takes in my ridiculous outfit. His eyes widen and he makes an up-and-down gesture. Even without words I know he’s asking, “What’s with the getup?”

I treat him to a shake of my pom-poms—not a euphemism, my actual red-and-white pom-poms. With a shoulder shrug and a smile, I don’t need words to give him my response, “When in Rome.” He gives me a wink before turning his attention back to the field. I can’t wait to get him home tonight.

It’s a ways into the game and I’m almost relaxed when I get a tap on my shoulder. I look up, up, up, into the dark eyes of a giant. This guy’s huge, bigger and broader even than Austin. His size is intimidating. Plus, he’s scowling down at me. What’d I ever do to you, dude? I stand up and lean back against the seats, thinking he’s trying to get by me. He doesn’t budge. Even now that I’m standing, this guy towers over me. His eyes are a deep brown, almost as black as his hair, and they are studying me intently.

“Elizabeth,” he declares, as if he decided that’s what my name will be. It isn’t a question.