“This…is my favorite,” he said, tapping his finger on the picture of us.

“Oh, shut up, no it’s not,” I teased, tossing one of the sofa pillows at him. He grabbed it and threw it right back at me, laughing but then turning very serious.

“No, really. This is my favorite. Come here,” he patted his lap, so I slid over, taking a seat on his knee. “Look, do you see the face you’re making?”

I was embarrassed to look, blushing a little. I know the face I was making because it was sheer bliss. I couldn’t believe Reed was laying on me, so close. “Yes, I know,” I hid my face, embarrassed.

Reed pulled my chin up and gave me the sweetest, softest kiss. “Don’t be embarrassed. I love that face you’re making. I was making it, too,” he smiled. “You loved me then, and I can’t tell you how freakin’ happy that makes me.”

Still a little embarrassed, I just nestled into his shoulder a little, and he held me close, flipping back through the pages of his book, telling me a little about some of the photos I didn’t recognize.

After almost an hour, he pulled the binding straps around the scrapbook and placed it back in the box, closing the lid. He picked it up and grabbed my hand, leading me upstairs with him. I watched as he slid the box under his bed and then came over to me, picking me up under the arms and raising me up above him then letting me slide down tightly into his arms. “Thank you, Nolan. You always give me the most amazing gifts, truly special,” I could feel his smile against my face.

“It’s cuz I love you,” I shrugged, growing more and more confident when those words left my lips.

“Yeah, you always did,” he smiled big then kissed me for the next hour.

22. Moments

My junior year was shaping up to be a fairytale. I attended every single one of Reed’s games that season, even the ones that were out in the far corners of the state. Since Sarah and Sienna were always going for cheer and band, my parents were more apt to allow Becky and me to make the road trips on our own.

My heart stopped each time Reed would lift me up after one of his games, either on his way to the bus or coming out of the locker room. So many times had I watched longingly as he held Tatum. Thoughts of her still poisoned my self-esteem, but I was coming around more and more to the realization that Reed was with me; he was mine and I was his.

The Bears made it all the way to the state title game again, losing by a touchdown in a last-minute drive against Yuma. Reed took the loss pretty hard, always feeling like the entire town’s hopes were on his back. I knew Buck really wanted to see a repeat title victory for his son, too. But despite the loss, Reed’s performance is what seemed to light up the media spotlight. He had set a new record of more than 4,000 passing yards for the season, and ESPN was coming to town to do a short feature on him for a high school round up segment at the start of the next season.

The calls from colleges were really firing now, and Buck was in his element. The stack of offers was growing, and the pressure was starting to get to Reed a little by the time the holidays rolled around. I talked my parents into letting him stay at our house for a few days between Christmas and New Year’s because his dad was going to be out of town so much taking meetings. Reed spent most of those days tinkering in the garage with my dad on his pickup, and I think Reed really liked the time away from talking football. My dad really liked having someone who knew a little about cars around, too.

Reed didn’t dare sneak into my room at night, I think partly because my father put the fear of God into him. But Reed also respected my dad and his rules. That’s not to say I didn’t find my way to the couch during a few late nights, but that was different than sneaking Reed into my bedroom. At least, that’s what we rationalized during our all-night make-out sessions in front of the television.

The hype from football died down some in the spring, a welcome reprieve for Reed and Buck, who was getting a little tired of the traveling. He was also starting to mix up his colleges, no longer able to rattle off who guaranteed to start Reed and which ones would place him in the back-up position.

It was my first road trip on the bus with Reed for the track season, and I was smitten. He and I, along with Becky and Sean, grabbed the back seats on the bus before we hit the road for a three-hour trek up north to Holbrook High School. Reed teased me while I folded up my legs and finished up my pre-calc homework. “Nerd,” he jested.

Once done with my studies, though, I spent most of the way there sharing headphones with Reed and forcing him to listen to my favorite songs on the playlist I had downloaded the night before. I snuggled up in between the window and his arm, burying my face a little in his chest as we listened for more than an hour to my favorite Shins album and The Lumineers. I endured his occasional jokes about my ‘chick music’ and then let him show me what a real man listens to. I was starting to tolerate his rap and heavy rock more, too, probably because it reminded me of him.