Despite not being able to think about anything but Paige for the past month, I’ve still managed to do well in my classes and on the football field. I’m not your average dumb jock—something I pride myself on. I get As and Bs and maintain a solid GPA while being the starting quarterback for our school’s undefeated football team.
As much as I love football, none of that compares to the thrill I get every time I enter school holding Paige’s hand. I look over at her walking down the hall next to me, her petite hand in my much larger one. She’s wearing my letterman jacket, her hair falling softly halfway down her back. She’s honestly never looked sexier.
I overheard one of the senior players talking in the locker room about how his girlfriend surprised him by wearing only his letterman jacket and nothing else. He said it was the best sex he’d ever had. Looking at Paige, I keep thinking about what she would look like wearing only my letterman jacket.
Fuck, that’s not a smart thought to have when walking down the halls. The last thing I need is to pop another boner at school—something that has become a constant problem since Paige and I started dating.
I’m a teenage boy. I was thinking about sex pretty regularly before I even had a girlfriend. Now that I do, and that girlfriend is Paige—who is smoking hot—I honestly can’t stop thinking about what sex will be like with her. But neither of us are ready to take that step. We’ve talked about it. We’re both virgins, and right now I’m kind of thankful for that. I love the idea that I’ll be the first guy Paige is with. The thought of anyone else touching her makes my blood boil.
It’s moments like this when I realize that I can’t imagine my life without Paige in it. I know I’m only sixteen and way too young to think about marriage and all that, but I know Paige is the one. I’ve loved her as a friend for most of my life and now…well, I haven’t told her yet, but I’m in love with her.
She glances at me, her gorgeous brown eyes filled with happiness, and I swear my heart stops. Goddamn, she’s so fucking gorgeous.
“What are you smiling about?” she asks, her lilting voice making my pants feel tighter while the rest of my body feels like it’s floating. I didn’t even realize I was smiling, but I shouldn’t be surprised. I don’t think I’ve stopped smiling in the last month.
“Just thinking about our date this weekend.” I squeeze her hand, and she smiles at me.
How did I get so lucky? Some days I really want to go back to five-year-old me and give that kid a big fucking high five for befriending this girl.
I pick Paige up at seven o’clock. It’s a Saturday night, so her curfew is midnight instead of her weekday curfew of ten o’clock. Her dad seems happy that we’re dating, although her mom seems a little cautious. I think she’s worried about what happens
if we break up, but that’s never going to happen. I’m in too deep already. Paige makes me feel things I never knew were possible. She pushes me to be my best, supports me, and makes me feel like the happiest guy in the world. Why would I ever give that up?
Paige comes down the stairs, and my gaze scans up her body, my breath stopping in my chest. It can’t be healthy that my heart keeps stopping like this, right? I don’t think it’s normal. None of the other guys talk about feeling like this with their girls.
Reminding myself to breathe, I reach out to hold Paige’s hand. She’s wearing a blue dress with a lace print design that hugs her upper body and then flares out at the waist. It stops about midthigh, showing off enough leg for me to be sufficiently horny at the sight of her. But, let’s be real, I’m a guy—I’d be horny looking at her ankles.
I give her a simple kiss on the cheek, instead of kissing her enticing luscious pink lips like I really want to since both her parents are standing right there. Putting my hand on the small of her back, I lead her toward my car after saying our goodbyes to her parents.
Her hand rests casually in mine, our fingers laced together and resting on her thigh as I drive to the seafood restaurant that’s gotten great reviews. Paige likes simple things, but I really want to spoil her and make her as happy as she makes me, so I thought I’d treat her to a fancy date instead of our usual burger joint down the street from my house.
When we get to the restaurant, our conversation flows, like always. She asks all about my away game last night, and I tell her how close it was. We were playing West Hills High School. They have one of the best teams in the league and put up one hell of a fight. We won, but just barely. It wasn’t my best night.
Paige comes to every home game but can’t usually go to the away games. Her parents don’t let her ride in a car with anyone
but me, and since I have to ride the bus for away games, she doesn’t typically come. I’m hoping next season they’ll loosen up and let her ride with one of the other players’ girlfriends because I want her at all my games. Her smile has this odd ability to help relax me when I’m playing. It sets me on fire the rest of the time, but it’s calming when I can glance up at the stands and see her smiling down at me. I definitely could’ve used it last night.
After dinner, we walk along the water. The weather has cooled down significantly in the past week, and the sun is just starting to set. There’s a chill in the air, but the view is unbeatable. The beauty of the orange, yellow, and pink colors of the sky meeting the deep blue of the water is breathtaking.
When she shivers, I take off my jacket and drape it over her shoulders while we sit at a wooden bench at the end of a pier, and I put my arm around her. I could hold Paige forever and never get tired of it. I thought holding a football was the best feeling in the world until Paige and I started dating.
She sighs and leans against me. “Tonight has been perfect.” She turns to me, the tenderness in her eyes making my heart beat a little faster. “Actually, every night with you is perfect.”
This is the moment I’ve been waiting for. She’s looking at me with that beautiful smile on her lips and her chocolate-brown eyes sparkling.
I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “I love you, Paige.”
Her eyes widen slightly before her smile grows, and she whispers, “I love you, too, Jack.”
She leans forward, pressing her soft lips to mine, and I kiss her deeply before pulling back and giving her my classic smirk.
“Just so we’re clear, I mean that I’m in love with you, as in I love you more than a friend.”
She slaps my arm—I not so secretly love when she does that—and laughs. I’ve never heard a better sound in all my life, and
it’s my new mission in life to make sure I always make her laugh. Unable to hold back, I lean in to kiss her again.
Her tongue darts between my lips, and the kiss goes from soft to frantic in a heartbeat. I grab the back of her head and devour her mouth, our tongues dancing together. We’ve gotten really good at making out—I mean really
good. I feel one of her hands slide from my knee up toward my crotch, and my brain nearly short-circuits. She’s not doing what I think she’s doing, is she?
She is.
Her hand glides across the stiffening bulge in my pants, and the heat from her touch feels scalding even with the layers of clothing separating her skin from mine. Despite having dated for a month, we haven’t done anything but make out. This is the first time she’s touched me like this, and even over my pants, it feels fucking incredible. Her other hand is in my hair, our lips still frantically molding together, tongues gliding across each other. My breathing hitches as she continues to caress me, and I let out a tortured groan.
Oh fuck, this feels good. Too good. I’m going to totally jizz in my pants if she doesn’t stop. I pull away from her, panting for breath, and quickly move her hand off me. Paige looks dazed—and sexy as hell with that damn blush on her face and her lips red and wet from our kissing—when her eyes finally open and meet mine.
“Why did you stop? Did I do something wrong?” She looks a little unsure, and I absolutely cannot stand the idea of her thinking anything negative right now.
“You definitely were doing it right. It felt so good, Paige,” I say, dropping a too brief kiss to her lips. “Too good, if you know what I mean.” It takes her a second before her blush deepens.
“Oh.” She giggles, and she looks so fucking sexy that I can’t help myself. I reach back over and kiss her again before reluctantly pulling away.
“I should probably take you home.”
“It’s still early. We could go for a drive.”
I’m only slightly more experienced than Paige, but we both know what “going for a drive” means around here. It means going to wherever the hot spot is and hooking up. The definition of hooking up tends to vary. Several guys on the football team have used it to describe full-on sex, while a few others use it to mean that they did everything but sex. Either way, it means more than kissing.
But I have no intention of taking Paige’s virginity in my car’s back seat, no matter how nice of a car it is. I want our first time together to be special and unforgettable. Paige is a hopeless romantic; I want to give her the fairytale she’s always dreamed of.
All that being said, I’ve jacked off multiple times a day thinking about Paige. I can’t help but want to go a little further than just making out, especially after a month of tasting her perfect lips.
“Okay. Let’s go for a drive.”
The Sharks are playing dirty tonight. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been sacked during this damn game. I can see Paige in the bleachers, her cheeks rosy from the cold, her fingers fidgeting nervously in front of her. She’s confessed more than once how worried she gets when I get sacked. I can only imagine what tonight is doing to her since I’ve taken more hard hits tonight than this whole season combined.
I take a deep breath and turn my attention to focus on the huddle. We’re down by six. We haven’t lost a homecoming game in ten seasons, and we’re not going to lose now that I’m starting
quarterback. I call the play, and we get in position. I focus on the field, the players around me, and block out the sounds of the crowd.
This place is sacred to me. I love the adrenaline rush I get when I’m on the field—the high from the pressure and the nervous energy that comes with trying to complete a play before I get tackled by the opposing side. The excitement that shoots through my body when I lead my team to victory is incredible.
The only thing that’s ever felt better than this is being with Paige.
I can hear the opposing team muttering insults and swearing, typical behavior on the field. I hear #87 on the opposing team mumble some stupid “yo momma” insult, and the tension between the teams is almost palpable. The Eastside Sharks are our biggest rivals, and this year their talent is better than ever.
My mind zeros in on the play—everything disappearing around me except for the players on the field and the football that’s ready and waiting. O’Connor snaps the ball to me, and I look around for my receivers. I can see a Sharks player come barreling toward me, but none of my guys are open. I don’t want to lose yardage, and I’m really sick of getting sacked every other minute. In a last-ditch effort to end the play without setting us back, I chuck the ball wide toward nothing. It’s a dangerous move. The ref could call intentional grounding, but it’s all I can think of in that moment. Luckily, the ref doesn’t call it. My coach, on the other hand, looks pissed at me. It was a dick move, and we both know it. I shake it off and focus on the game.
We get back in line, and O’Connor snaps the ball to me. This time, Ashby is open. The ball spirals beautifully through the air and lands smoothly in his extended hands. Ashby runs toward the end zone and makes it right as another player tackles him.
Touchdown!
Walters, our kicker, boots the ball straight through the goalposts, and victory is ours.
I look up to the stands and spot Paige jumping up and down, cheering, her smile radiant and her eyes filled with joy. I swear she’s my biggest fan and supporter. That girl is unbelievable, and she’s all mine. On instinct, I run over and jump up into the stands, pulling her to me in a deep kiss.
“Fuller!” my coach shouts behind me.
Paige breaks from the kiss breathless, and I turn back to my coach.
“Sorry, Coach. Had to kiss my girl. She’s my good luck charm.”
I smile at Paige, give her one more peck, and then head back to the field. We shake hands with the other team and then head to the locker room. The guys are buzzing with excitement—nothing beats the thrill of a victory. And I’m right there with them, flying high on the energy going around the room. It was a close game, but sometimes those are the best because they keep us focused. We have to work for our win, which makes it more meaningful in the end.
Paige is waiting for me when I walk out of the locker room, showered and changed. She runs into my arms, and I spin her around. Sometimes I still can’t quite believe that this girl is all mine; it feels a little too good to be true.
She smiles up at me. “I was on the edge of my seat that whole game, but I’m so proud of you! You were amazing out there.”
Her belief in me is one of the reasons I love her so much—that and because she’s beautiful inside and out. Paige is, without a doubt, one of the most caring girls I’ve ever met. I’m a lucky guy.
“Hey, wanna go to a celebratory party at the lake? The guys invited us out.”
“Sure. I just need to text my parents to let them know.”
After Paige gets the all clear from her parents, we head to the lake. It’s an absolute madhouse by the time we get there. I don’t know how they get away with doing this every year without the cops coming. Maybe because it’s secluded enough from town, but still, it’s insanity. There are cars everywhere with their headlights on to light up the party. There are a ton of high school kids milling around and a bonfire down near the water.
I grab Paige’s hand to keep her close to me as we wander through the people. Music is playing loudly from someone’s car, and I see a bunch of my teammates dancing with their girlfriends, or whatever girl they happen to be dating this week.
My teammate and friend Nate O’Connor and his girlfriend, Kayla, make their way over to us, and we end up chatting around the bonfire for over an hour. By eleven, we’ve all had some of the alcohol O’Connor snuck out with him, and I’m definitely feeling it. I can’t stop touching Paige. I can tell she’s feeling the effects of the alcohol too, because she keeps giggling and touching me back.
I desperately want to get her alone and reenact that night in my car from last week when we went for a drive and she let me finger her. God, she was so hot—well, she’s always hot, but watching her come apart like that was something out of this world. And the feel of her hands on me when she returned the favor is permanently burned into my memory.
Once O’Connor and Kayla start making out, it’s pretty easy to pull Paige away and take her closer to the trees where we can have a little privacy. I need to get my hands on her bare skin.
We make it to the tree line, and I push her back gently against one of the tall trees. She’s laughing softly, her eyes bright from the buzz of alcohol, even though she only had one drink. If she’d had any more, I wouldn’t even consider doing this, but we’re both only slightly buzzed.
I kiss her deeply, my hand sliding up her shirt to cup her breast. She moans in my mouth, and I lose all sense of control. I kiss her neck, sucking on it hard, and move down. Her shirt is in my way, so I quickly pull it off and slide her bra down. She inhales sharply as I suck on her nipple. I love watching her facial expressions when we’re like this. It’s a better high than being on the field.
Her back arches, pushing her breast farther into my mouth, and I can’t get enough of her. I’m about to unbutton her pants when we hear laughing getting closer. Paige inhales sharply, and I quickly cover her with my body. No way in hell am I letting someone else see Paige like this. All my protective instincts are on high alert. The voices come closer and round the corner to where I thought we were pretty well hidden.
“Fuller, that you?” It’s Donahue, one of our senior defensive linemen. “It is you!”
He slurs his words, and I can just barely make out from the light of the moon that he is completely wasted. The girl on his arm looks pretty trashed too. Before I can respond to Donahue, the girl says something to him and then immediately turns and vomits on the ground.
I think it’s safe to say the mood is officially dead. I can’t hook up with Paige after watching a random girl vomit all her beer, which just so happens to trigger Donahue.
He exclaims, “Oh, fuck, that’s so gross,” before he chokes on the last word and projectile vomit comes out of his mouth.
Let me tell you, there’s nothing more sobering—or disgusting—than watching two people vomit next to each other.
I keep Paige covered while she puts her bra and shirt back on. I check on Donahue and his date to ensure they’ll be okay before heading back toward the party. I fill O’Connor in on Donahue, and he proceeds to grab a couple of bottles of water and head
over to find him. With Paige’s hand firmly back in mine, we make a hasty retreat.
“Well, this night didn’t turn out quite like I expected.”
She laughs softly. “That’s okay. We always have tomorrow.”
Ah, yes. The homecoming dance. I definitely plan to get my hands on Paige again tomorrow.