Big hands curl around the bare skin at my waist sending waves of electricity down my sides. I turn around and immediately get a spine-tingling kiss of my own.

“You look good as my number one,” Aiden says.

“I saw you warming up. The balls all have four-leaf clovers on them.”

“Yeah, Coach saw all of Logan's tattoos and asked us to put them on—since it worked before. Although it seemed to piss Dawson off.”

“Why?”

“Maybe because you have a clover on your hip?”

The game is exciting.

A back and forth battle.

Dawson still seems to be pissed at Aiden because he's only thrown one pass to him.

Although it might be the fact that Dawson’s been on the run most of the night. Our offensive line is having a hard time holding back their defense.

Right before the half, Dawson gets tackled and is slow to get up. Tyrese helps him limp off to the side.

The coach sends Riley in to replace him.

He lines up in the shotgun position and is still calling the play when one of the defensive players rushes across the line of scrimmage and tackles him flat on his back.

The crowd boos as the official throws a flag. Riley stands up quickly, wraps his hand into the guy’s jersey, and gets in his face. I'm not sure what he tells him but the guy quickly moves back to his side of the field.

Riley calls a timeout, runs over to the bench, and has an animated discussion with the coach. Riley takes the field with Logan and Aiden following him.

They all line up, the ball is snapped, and Aiden and Logan both sprint down the field in a crossing pattern. Logan's defender misses the read, so Aiden ends up double-teamed and Logan is wide open. Riley launches the ball to him for the score.

Maggie is standing next to me in the dance line.

Logan runs past us, looks at Maggie, and pats the spot above his heart.

She touches the clover tattoo and smiles at him. But her smile is tinged with sadness and regret.

I hope after the play tomorrow night that regret is turned to hope.

After winning the game, we're wandering around on the field congratulating all the players. I look for Dawson to see if he’s okay. Cam is standing next to him, as are Peyton and Whitney. Peyton is flirting with Cam. He's got a big grin on his face, clearly loving the attention. Whitney is wearing her bored look.

“How are you?” I ask Dawson.

“I’m fine, just took a shot to the ribs. Knocked the wind out of me.”

“He'll be fine. The girls we’re hanging out with tonight are pre-med.”

Dawson tries to pull me toward him but winces and stops.

“You're really hurt.”

“I’ll be okay,” he says, stepping away from everyone else.

“I saw your face when Cam said that about the girls. You looked sad.”

“This is hard, Dawson.”

“I think the transition back to friends might be a little rough.”

I nod.

“You looked really happy when you went out on the field with Aiden. You don’t look like that with me. Even Cam said so.”

“You deserve a girl that looks like that when she's with you.”

He gives me a sad smile. “I felt really jealous, but not in the way I expected. More like I want that someday.”

Real electricity.

1:20am

I go to Aiden’s room to party and find him waiting for me outside his door.

He looks at me with such dreamy eyes that I feel a bit tipsy even though I haven’t had a drop to drink. “Come in.”

I walk in his room and am confused. “Where is everyone?”

He grins big at me. “I cancelled the party.”

“But Katie went to a party.”

“They moved it to the Cave. I told them they couldn’t party in my room anymore.” He points toward the back of his room. “The keg is gone for good.”

“Was everyone pissed?”

“Very. But I don’t care. I think it was you who told me I should only worry about what the people I love think. What my real friends think.”

“What does Logan think?”

“He and Riley helped me get the keg down to the Cave.”

“I’m proud of you, Aiden. It’s hard to stand up to your friends. Do what’s right for you.”

“What can I say? You inspire me.”

“Me? I’m a mess.”

“You’re not as much of a mess as you think you are. Do you wanna dance?”

“No.”

“Oh?” He looks perplexed. I think gods are not used to being told no. It’s like the word bewilders him.

“I’d rather kiss you.”

He smiles, flashing all that blinding, brilliant power at me. I touch his hand and lead him to his bed.

We sit on the edge of his bed, both of us staring at each other. I remember thinking it was just a line when he told me he could stare into my eyes all day, but now I think he really meant it.

When his lips touch mine, they shock me.

And not his normal electrical feel. I’m talking, he actually shocks me.

“Damn, I knew your kisses were powerful, but I didn’t realize they could produce real electricity.”

He laughs, then looks at me seriously. “My kisses are powerful?”

I swallow, breathe, and nod. I’m afraid to say anything else. He taps my lip with his finger to see if he’ll get shocked again. When there is no shock, he traces my bottom lip with his finger.

I kiss his finger. Then I close my eyes and slowly suck on it. I run my tongue up the side of it, across the tip, and then slide my mouth down most of his long finger.

He seems to like it because he’s rubbing his hands hard up and down my back and leaning toward me. He rubs my lower lip with his finger when I let it slide out of my mouth and hang there before taking it deep into my mouth.

He makes a deep, throaty noise. It’s thrilling to have this effect on him just by kissing a finger. I can’t even imagine what it will be like when I kiss something more personal.

I finish sucking on his finger and he gives me a deep, hard kiss. His hands run wildly through my hair and down my back. Our tongues play a fun game of cat and mouse.

Then he leans me back across the bed and lies on top of me.

I pull his shirt off. I want—no, I need—to feel his skin against mine. I run my hands all over his smooth back, across his chest, down the front of his abs, and then back again. I want to memorize every muscle, every curve, every bulge, everything.

He kisses my neck, so I’m not really sure what exactly I’m doing now. I just know I need my hands on him.

I’m rubbing, massaging, and even letting my fingers trail the line just underneath his waistband, but not trying to go any further.

I could seriously spend days, weeks, maybe months, kissing him.

I kiss down his neck and suck on it.

He makes the sexiest noises I have ever heard.

While I’m kissing every square inch of his neck, he pulls off my sweatshirt. Well, I have to stop kissing his neck for a second while it comes over my head, but then I continue like I never stopped.

He runs his hands all over my skin. Searing his name into my soul with every single touch.

His hands are everywhere. Touching every part of me.

Well, every part of me that is naked. Which really isn’t much. Considering I’m still wearing my bra and jeans.

His fingers dance around the edges of my bra, like they’re trying to decide what to do.

I have to admit, I’m a little disappointed that he doesn’t unhook it.

Until his lips move from my neck to my chest.

His tongue moves across my cleavage and around the edges of my bra.

Like the feather.

Only with his tongue.

I changed my mind.

The feather isn’t my heaven.

It’s his tongue.

Saturday, November 5th

That little shit.

10:30am

“We need to discuss this trip,” Cooper tells me. I’m in his office after being called in. I had geared up for a fight. For him to tell me I can’t go. So, I’m pleasantly surprised to hear that he’s been planning already.

“Okay.”

“Obviously, we’ll leave here separately and meet up at the airport.”

“Okay.”

“If at any time anyone from school figures out that we were gone together, we’ll admit that we were.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. There’s an MMA fight in Atlantic City. I’ve booked us separate rooms at the hotel and bought us tickets. I have two friends with our basic descriptions checking us into our rooms and using our tickets. They will also be giving me our receipts.”

“I don’t get why that’s necessary.”

“Whitney has been snooping around. It’s important that I keep my job.”

“Okay. What about the flights?”

“I chartered them all. First, we’re flying to South Bend, Indiana. You’ll be wearing a brown wig and, if anyone asks, you’re there on a college visit.”

“Then what?”

“Then, we’re renting a car and instead of visiting the college, we’re driving two hours to Chicago. We’ll drop off our rental car at O’Hare, catch a cab to a nearby hotel, and then go to a smaller executive airport. We’ll take that charter to somewhere closer to Vancouver.”

“Let’s go to Salt Lake City and fly from there under my real name.”

Cooper grins at me. “That was one of the places where he thought you might be, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Perfect. We’ll charter a flight from there to Vancouver under your real name. That way, he can follow the trail there if he wants to.”

“But it will lead to a dead end.”

“Exactly. This is going to be exhausting. We’ll leave here at 4am. With the time difference, that should put us there around noon their time.”

“That’s perfect. Thank you so much, Cooper. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

He eyes a stack of papers on his desk. “I have to admit, I never realized how much work teaching would be. And I’m basically teaching a senior slack-off class. I can’t imagine what it would be like if I was teaching something like history.”

“Wait, did you say seniors!?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Some juniors take health, right?”

“Um, no. Seniors only. To prepare them for college. We talk about their overall health. It's not just sex. It's nutrition, alcohol, drugs, exercise, stress control, and time management.”

“So if a junior told me he was taking a poll about sex for health class, he was lying.”

“Yes.”

I smile. That little shit.

Life can follow a script.

11:15am

I go to the auditorium to get into hair and makeup. We have two performances back to back followed by the cast party tonight.

Before the first performance, Aiden texts me.

Hottie God: Can I see you before the play? Wish you luck?

Me: You can see me before the play, but you can’t wish me luck or you’ll jinx it. That’s why you always say break a leg.

Hottie God: Maybe that was just an excuse to kiss you.

I walk out the stage door already dressed in my cheerleader costume for the first scene.

Aiden immediately gives me a sweet kiss. Then he pulls a green marker out of his pocket.

“What’s that for?”

“It’s for breaking a leg.”

“What?”

He looks me over then bends down on one knee and lifts up my cheerleading skirt.

I want to ask him what the hell he’s doing, but his hand touches my thigh, making me incapable of speech.

He takes the lid off the marker and puts the tip of it on my thigh. I can feel that he’s drawing hearts on my leg. But when he finishes and lets me see, I realize the four hearts are forming a perfect four-leaf clover.

I fish inside my bra and pull out the glass four-leaf clover he gave me before my speech. “I already had this with me.”

“In your bra?” he laughs.

I hold my hands out. “Look at this costume and tell me where else I could’ve put it.”

He lets his eyes wander slowly down my skimpy costume. When they return to meet mine, I see the fire in his eyes. The passion that he had that day he first kissed me with his tongue. But this time, he’s not mad at me.

He kisses the glass clover, tucks it back inside my bra, and says, “Break a leg, Boots.”

Our first performance of the day goes off without a hitch. No one forgets their lines and no one messes up the lighting, sound, or sets.

Afterward, Aiden comes backstage carrying a bouquet of lavender roses and white feathers.

“Aiden, these are beautiful. Love the feathers. I wonder what in the world they’re in reference too?”

“I think you know exactly what both the feathers and the lavender roses mean. You were amazing. You seriously light up the stage when you're on it.”

I grin my widest smile. I can't stop grinning. I don't think I've ever felt so happy.

I’m not sure if I lit up the stage or not, but I do know that the stage lit up something inside of me.

I know without a doubt that acting is what I want to do with my life.

“I think you’re going to change your mind about acting,” he goes on to say. “You may not think you’re ready, but you are. It’s obvious.”

I start to disagree because I have to. He holds up his hand and pushes a piece of paper in front of me. “I don’t care what you say. I want to be the first to get your autograph.”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I know Aiden is just playing, being sweet, but he’s touched something deep in my heart. I think it’s because he believes in me.