He smiled fully, and those dimples flashed. “Are you trying to be polite, Anna Lambert?”
I was, but I could also be very honest. “You’re incredibly good.”
I thought his face seemed to harden a moment. “It’s just a game,” he said, shrugging. “In life, it doesn’t matter if you’re good on the field.”
I thought about the screaming students. “It matters to everyone else.”
He stared at me. Just stared, and it seemed like his gaze saw right into me. “That’s my truck,” he told me as he pointed to the sleek silver ride near the field's gate. “Stay there, give me five minutes to shower in the locker room, and then we’ll hit that party.”
I nodded. “Sounds like a plan.” So I guessed that I was going to the party. Why was I stressing so much?
But he didn’t leave right away. Instead, his eyes narrowed. “Why do I feel like you’re so different from everyone else that I’ve ever met?”
Different. “Because I am.” I sure was being honest with him. Strange.
Another dimpled smile, and he turned away. I headed for his truck and propped my back against the tail-gate. The better to just sit back and watch the cars charge out of the parking lot.
It didn’t take long for the place to clear. The other team shuffled out of the stadium and crowded onto their bus. There wasn’t much chatter from them or their band, or even their cheerleaders. I guess it was hard to be cheery after a slaughter.
Their bus rolled away, shooting exhaust into the air, and almost drowning out the sound of a motorcycle.
Almost, but not quite.
Rafe drove slowly around the lot. His helmet was on and the visor was down, so I couldn’t see his face. As I stared at him, I straightened up. Was he going to stop? Say something to me? Tell me once more that Brent really wasn’t interested in me?
But the bike just picked up speed, and he drove away.
I realized I was almost alone in the lot then, and that—that wasn’t good. My hand shoved into my purse, and I closed my fingers around the mace I’d brought tonight, just in case…and to shut up my dad.
I stood there, wishing Brent would hurry, and—
A howl cut through the night. Not close, but floating in the distance. I shivered.
“It’s gonna be a bad night to be out alone in the woods.”
That was Cassidy’s voice. I glanced to the right. She’d come toward me, and I hadn’t even heard her approach. I guessed she must move like Granny Helen, all quiet and sneaky.
“I’m not planning to be alone in the woods,” I told her. No, that definitely wasn’t an item on my to-do list for the night.
“Good.” She glanced up at the dark sky. A half-moon hung over us. “They’re going to be hungry soon.”
“You’re creepy, you know that?”
She frowned at me.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been creepy more than my share of times, too.” Wasn’t that the truth? “But you really need to ease up, or you’re not gonna have any friends.” This was so the speech my dad had given me before we left Chicago. Almost word for word. And he thought I never listened to him.
“What makes you think that I want friends?” Angry, defensive.
One of my shoulders lifted, then fell. “Because you’re standing here, talking to me, and because you just spent your Friday night at a football game.” Come on, that screamed wanting friends.
Her lips snapped closed.
“Why you’re giving me this BS spiel about the night being dangerous, I don’t know.” I didn’t really care. “But maybe you should just try chilling out.”
Brent emerged from the shadows of the stadium. He had a duffel bag thrown over his left shoulder.
“Maybe you should come to the party,” I told her because I’d seen the flicker of uncertainty on