“Aw, Jules, really?” Dad groans, clearly not satisfied with where my loyalties have fallen.
“Sorry, Pop,” I apologize, stepping around them to get to my seat and struggling with my balance along the way.
Greyston holds out his hand for me, and I take it to keep from falling into the row of people in front of us. Before letting me go, though, Greyston pulls me to him, his hand running over the fabric of my new shirt. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“You like?”
A familiar grumble escapes him, exciting me. “Let’s just say I’m going to have a very difficult time concentrating on the game.”
I step up onto my tiptoes and kiss him before we take our seats. Once we’re settled, Greyston’s hand finds a home on my thigh as we wait for everything to begin. We rise from our seats when it’s time for the National Anthem, and I smile up at Greyston as everyone in the stadium sings along.
The game starts, and I have to admit, it’s pretty exciting. While I don’t get everything that’s going on, Greyston does a really good job at explaining things to me in a way I can understand. Dad is trying to ruffle Greyston’s feathers the entire game, especially when the Eagles score a touchdown that puts them ahead of the Cardinals.
The majority of the crowd is not happy about this, and I find myself momentarily worried. It’s especially worrying when halftime rolls around and the Cardinals are still down by seven. Since there’s nothing really going on, Mom and Dad excuse themselves, leaving Greyston and me alone for a bit.
“Are you having fun?” Greyston asks.
I nod emphatically. “I really am. It’s a little confusing, but I think I understand the basics.” I lean forward in my seat, taking Greyston’s hand and lacing my fingers with his. “Thanks for inviting us. It’s really great, and Dad’s having a blast.”
He pulls my hand to his lips and presses a kiss to my knuckles. “I couldn’t imagine being here with anyone else, Juliette.”
I lean closer to him. “Well, that’s good, because I wouldn’t go to a football game with just anyone.”
Mom and Dad return from wherever they snuck off to—honestly, it’s best if I don’t even ask—and it looks like the game is about to get back underway. The second half of the game is interesting. The teams both seem to be doing well, but, much to Greyston’s dismay, the Eagles win the game. He’s a good sport, though, listening to Daddy relay the winning touchdown as we walk through the parking lot.
We stop at my mom’s SUV, and my dad turns to us. “Thanks for inviting us along, Greyston.”
“Anytime, Cam. I’m glad the two of you had a good time.” He shakes Dad’s hand and then turns to my mom to do the same.
Mom pushes his hand away and pulls him in for a hug instead. “You two have a good night, okay?”
“We will, Mom,” I tell her, hugging her and my dad next before telling them I’d talk to them later in the week. They climb into their vehicle, and Greyston and I head for his car so we can go home after what I can only describe as one of my top five favorite days.
So far.
Chapter 17
After a spectacular weekend with Greyston and my parents, waking up on Monday morning seems kind of depressing. It’s almost like the weekend was a wonderful dream, and now I’m being thrust back into reality.
Feeling less than enthused to start my day, I turn my alarm clock off, crawl out of bed, and head to my bathroom to get ready. As I finish up and head back into my room, I pull the hem of my oversized sweater down to cover my shorts, and the neckline slips, exposing my shoulder. I expect to smell breakfast cooking as I hit the hall, but I’m shocked to see that Greyston is still in bed. Fast asleep.
Not sure yet if I enjoy this view more than him swimming, I lean against his door frame, cross my arms, and watch him for a minute. He appears deep in sleep still as I let my eyes roam over his peaceful face. His hair is even more messy than usual, but instead of wanting to run my fingers through it to tame it, I want to make it worse.
The minute I notice his breathing pattern change when he shifts to roll over, I back away from his room and proceed downstairs to make coffee and start breakfast. I find the kitchen a little quiet, so I flip the radio on before digging through the fridge for the ingredients to make omelets.
Dancing to the music, I crack the eggs into the bowl and whisk them before pouring them into my oiled frying pan. When I notice the top is cooked, I sprinkle some shredded cheddar on it and fold it over.
“Now this is a sight I could get used to in the mornings,” Greyston says from behind me, making me jump. He chuckles. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to alarm you.”