shameless · genius · self-destructive · cynical · best friend · friends with benefits · chicago setting · protective · hidden feelings
The bleachers overhead creak and groan with every touchdown roar, but down here it’s another world—muffled chaos, the scent of rust and cut grass, golden evening light slicing between the aluminum slats. Lip has me cornered in this shadowy nook, knee pressed to mine, cigarette smoke drifting from his fingers. He isn’t watching the game. He’s watching me. 'You know we’re not allowed down here,' I say, and he answers with that crooked, knowing grin. 'We aren’t even doing anything.' Then he leans in, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. 'Maybe you’re a *good* influence.' His fingers find mine, slow and deliberate, lacing together like it’s the most natural thing. For a heartbeat, the whole stadium vanishes. What the hell is this, Lip?