I just laughed, shrugging out from under his big, tanned hands and bumping against his side on my way over to his truck. It was massive; big enough that I either had to jump or be lifted into it. And when Lee had used just one hand to boost me up, I saw he’d laid a heart-shaped hot water bottle onto my seat so that when I moved it aside and sat down, the chair was warm. I smiled at him when he got in, touched.
“Thanks,” I said sincerely.
“Neigh problemo,” he breezed. I was starting to sense he had wanted to tell me a lot more than how good I looked earlier, but didn’t push it. “It’s cold, so…”
“Will you get cold on the field?” I asked. I worried slightly. I’d been raised to think hip exposure in any season but summer led to pneumonia. This was advice that I was completely ignoring tonight, considering my outfit choice, but I couldn’t help wondering about Lee for some reason. His jersey really was very thin. It didn’t even cover his arms.
“Nah,” he replied. “I’ll be moving around too much.”
I bit my lip.
“Trust me, Mandy. This shirt’s coming off as soon as the game’s won, it’ll be boiling..”
My focus warred internally. Did I make a comment about his cocky self-assurance, or the fact that I was looking forward to seeing his torso exposed?
Okay, well, the second option definitely wasn’t a good one. That would certainly be out of the friendship arena, more of a home run in the direction of flirting.
“Oh, you know you’re gonna’ win?” I teased at last, but my voice was further away than usual. I’d seen him without a shirt- when it was actually happening, I usually got real silent for at least a good five minutes. The sight never got any less awe-worthy, if I was being honest, and it was almost as good to imagine inside my own head. I had a good memory.
“Come on, don’t pretend you’re not thinking about my delicious abs right now.”
“Jerk.”
“I have to be, babe, you’re breaking my heart,” he said with a wink, followed by a heartbreaking grin.
Oh, God, I thought as I looked at him, this beautiful man, be mine.
He turned his gaze back towards the road, but his smile remained and so did my stare. I felt utterly enraptured by him in that moment, even more so than all the other moments I spent with him. There was a certain mischievous glint in his eyes that could never leave them, one that both excited and indulged me, and across his strong, roman features laid a softness that couldn’t be ignored.
Lee wasn’t merely beautiful, of course. He was glorious and godlike and sassy and such a cocky man, but rightfully so, so I could hardly protest so much as agree. Truly, Lee was indescribable, so much more than any adjective, noun or metaphor I could muster within my own mind, but I still tried.
Maybe that was when I realised I was in love with Lee Jarvis, the Jarhead. Because that was the thing about love: you never stopped trying, even if it was just in describing his sheer gorgeousness.
I wanted to tell him. I didn’t know why, perhaps that was just what happened when you felt something so euphoric, and I could feel the words on the tip of my tongue, but before those precious sounds could actually leave my lips, they... didn’t. I couldn’t. He was Lee. My best friend- or, well, only friend. Could I really jeopardise that on some small chance that he might like me back?
“You okay?” he asked as we pulled up in school, cutting the engine. He laid his arms on the steering wheel and leaned his head on them as he looked over at me.
