Love, Utley (Love Letters #1)

Chelsea makes a face at him as she fixes her hair, but I can see the humor in her eyes.

It’s gotta be him.

I squeeze Maddox’s fingers.

“Seats first, then—” He cuts off and lifts a hand to grab someone’s attention. “Hey, man. I’ll take three if you’re selling them already.”

A guy carrying one of those big crates full of bottled water appears next to Maddox.

Maddox pays an absurd amount of money for three bottles of water, then hands one to each of us. “Stay hydrated.”

Chelsea and I thank him at the same exact time, making Maddox smile broadly. And he looks so… happy.

And fuck me, I think I’m addicted to seeing that smile.

Unaware of my thoughts, Maddox opens his bottle and tips it back.

His throat works as he swallows half the contents in one go.

It doesn’t matter that he’s retired. Doesn’t matter that he’s not training for hours a day anymore. He’s still big and thick in all the ways that count. And in jeans, a T-shirt with a faded logo I don’t recognize, and that fucking hat— the white contrasting with his dark hair— he’s obnoxiously good looking. And like I said before, he looks exactly like the athlete he is.

I drop my gaze over to Chelsea. She’s rolling her eyes at me, having caught me staring.

I mouth shut up at her, and she just rolls her eyes again.

“Okay, row eight.” Maddox pokes Chelsea in the shoulder. “You first.”

“Why me first?” Chelsea narrows her eyes at the big man.

“Because you’re easy to see over,” Maddox says seriously. “And if we trip, you can break our fall.”

Chelsea grumbles something about “worst idea ever” as she turns to start down the stairs, but I don’t miss the way her cheeks twitch.

Maddox presses his hand to my back. “You next.”

“So you can crush me too?”

Maddox drags his fingertips up the back of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine.

I hurry forward, his deep chuckle following me.

Careful on the steps, I admit that it feels good to be out in public with Maddox. Like this is our normal, and we do it all the time.

I make a mental note to check on my job applications tomorrow. I’ve heard back from a few of the companies that I’ve since decided won’t be a good fit, but there’s still a handful that I think would work.

“What seats?” Chelsea stops at the end of our row.

“Um…” I start to pull out my phone to check.

“The three on the end,” Maddox answers for me.

Chelsea moves to the third in, waving to a kid a few seats down.

It looks like the whole front chunk of this section is filled with Chelsea’s classmates and their parents.

“Hey, Hannah!” A mom two rows down is turned around, looking up at us.

“Hey!” I know I know her, but I feel like a jerk because her name is slipping my mind. “How’s your summer going?”