A Good Boy Is Hard to Find (The Naughty List #3)(51)
Author: Suzanne Young

I smiled to myself and Aiden caught my eye. “He’s my boyfriend,” I said. Without any noticeable reaction, Aiden got into the ambulance and brought his long legs under him as he leaned close to my bed. The doors shut and as one EMTs worked off my cast, Aiden snuggled his head onto the pillow next to me. His fingers, gentle and tender, slid down my arm, tickling me. And when he got to my palm, he paused.

“The reasons Tessa Crimson should go out with me,” he whispered so that only I could hear him. “Number ten: She looks very perky in her cheerleading uniform.” I giggled and felt a breathy laugh on my neck as he continued. “Number nine: She can make me smile with all of her cute phrases. Number eight: She—”

I turned to him, my nose nearly touching his. “I’ve heard this before,” I murmured.

“Not number one.”

I smiled. “Ball of sunshine.”

“Nope.”

“Then what?”

“Number one: Because I love her.” Only he didn’t whisper it. He said it as if it were something that was so true, something that was just a fact. Like he was telling me that whipped cream was delicious or puppies were cute. He said it as if he meant it.

I intertwined my fingers with his, looking at him. In him. Because he was my guy. Aiden would always be my only guy.

Epilogue

I sat on the top bleacher, my braced leg resting on the empty seat ahead of me as I observed practice. The gym had been newly remodeled, which would be a huge draw for the basketball finals. In fact, the ESPN crew would be returning, this time with broadcasters.

The Fall Heard Round the World had become a Web sensation. It was even on Sport’s Center’s Top 10. I used to get mad at Aiden for watching it over and over again. But he said that he was just proud that his girlfriend made the Clip of the Week.

At the game, the Wildcats had been slaughtered by the Ducks (as usual), but no one seemed to remember that. Instead, my disastrous cheer had gotten nearly three million hits on youtube. As a result, the games were sold out for the rest of the season. It was considered a job well done for the Smitten Kittens.

“Line up,” Leona shouted from center court. My mouth twitched with a smile as the Smitten Kittens took their spots for their final routine run-through.

“Popcorn?”

I looked sideways at Aiden as he held out the bag of popcorn he’d picked up from 7-Eleven. He said it would help me with the transition if I ate popcorn in the stands like a true spectator, but I think he was just hungry.

“Thanks.” I took a handful and watched him. He was dressed in a red Oregon State University T-shirt and baggy khaki shorts, his blond floppy curls sticking out every which way. When I reached over to smooth them down, he tried to bite my hand.

“Stop!” I laughed. Instead, he leaned over and pretended to bite at my neck. Which I really didn’t want him to stop.

“Ready? Okay.” The routine began, and both Aiden and I turned to the court.

“Is she really that good?” he murmured, his breath warm on my neck.

“Just watch.”

“Can’t be as good as you.”

Even though I wasn’t on the court, which still stung a little, I was more than happy to be in the stands with Aiden. After my operation—six pins and a titanium plate—I wouldn’t be cheering any time soon. The actual word the doctor used was never, but he obviously underestimated my tenacity. Aiden had become my personal physical therapist, helping with strength training, endurance … and well, lots of other super-fun stuff.

We were encouraged by my progress so far.

Aiden was granted a temporary leave from college as he regrouped and transferred to OSU. Luckily, it wouldn’t affect his scholarship, and in fact, it put us in the same graduating class and only forty-five minutes away from each other.

I’d decided that I never really wanted to go to WSU—it was just that Aiden was supposed to be there. Now that he was a Beaver, there wasn’t much of a reason. And with the year almost out, I’d been accepted to the University of Oregon for their Kinesiology program. I planned to work in sports medicine, which would be pretty awesome, considering how much I enjoyed being around athletes.

But officially—I was now a Duck. Ironic.

“Dunk it!” Chloe yelled, projecting her voice through the gymnasium. “Slam it! Get that ball!”

I reached over for more popcorn as Aiden straightened, watching intently as Chloe led the squad in their cheer. “Damn,” he said, shaking his head. “She’s good.”

“Watch it,” I said through a mouthful of popcorn.

“Psht. Like I even look at anyone else.” He tilted his head to glance at me, batting his eyelashes. “You’re the only girl I have eyes for.”

“Stalker eyes.”

“You know it.”

I laughed, leaning into Aiden and resting my head on his shoulder. We had indeed become smoother than ever—completely and sickeningly perfect together. Leona let me know on several occasions.

Unfortunately her relationship with Chris didn’t make it past my final cheer. They broke up later that night amid a slew of insults. She later admitted that part of the reason she took him back in the first place was because she couldn’t stand the idea of him dumping her. She felt that she needed the closure of being the one to call it quits.

She had rebounded nicely though. She was now dating a guy from WSU—someone that Aiden knew—and we double-dated often. It was cool, especially because we all loved sports.

There were squeaking noises as Kira and Izzie moved across the court, doing cartwheels, their sneakers giving off the perky sound that I loved. It was great to see Izzie so vibrant again. She continued therapy through the season, but soon she was off medication.

She’d relapsed briefly—I caught her texting Sam—but we’d reacted quickly this time. No more letting her slip through the cracks. She was coming with me to U of O next year. She was going to be my roommate.

Just then Kira’s sneaker caught the edge of Leona’s, and she stumbled a bit but straightened and started laughing. “My bad,” she called before clapping and counting off again. They sprang back into action, Kira’s blond curls flying all around her shoulders as she turned head over feet.

It had been strange when I returned to school after my fall. First, because I had to be in a wheelchair for three weeks. The gym hadn’t been handicapped accessible, but thanks to Leona’s father, a lawyer, they’d remodeled the entire thing. It was a victory for students everywhere.