We made our way into the stadium and Alice grabbed my hand and squealed when she saw the team store right in front of us. “Come on! We have to get you something better to wear!”
“Alice, I look fine.” She ran her eyes down my plain shirt and just raised an eyebrow at me. “What?”
“You look like you’re going to wash your car, not see your boyfriend play.”
“Shhh!” I glanced around but nobody was paying us any attention. Alice pulled me into the store and made a beeline toward the jerseys hanging on the wall. “He’s not even going to see me.”
“Maybe not but don’t you want a little piece of him on you?” She gestured down to her jersey and smiled brilliantly. “I love it, it’s like I’m marked or something.” A big, balding guy with a beer gut reached around her and plucked an 81 jersey off the rack and walked away with it.
“Looks like he’s marked by your man too.”
Alice giggled and elbowed me. “You know what I mean.”
“Your man has all different types, it seems.” An older woman wearing a Whitlock jersey was pawing through the hats. “Cougar,” I whispered and Alice chortled.
“My Jazzy really gets around, it seems. Then again, I see way more number tens.” That was an understatement. Every other person was wearing something with Edward’s name or number on it. It made me feel warm and a little dizzy. “Edward’s a total manwhore,” Alice declared with a giggle. I shot her my own elbow and she flew into a rack of t-shirts.
“Okay! I was just kidding, jeez. Still, I think you’d look adorable in a jersey. Everybody else is wearing his number, so should you.”
I didn’t own anything with Edward’s number on it. I let Alice take me over to some t-shirts and she thrust one at me. “Edward Cullen is a perfect ten? Really, Alice?”
She giggled and nodded. “From everything you’ve told me, you can’t tell me you don’t agree with it.”
“It’s pink.” I loathed those stupid girlie outfits that they made for NFL teams now. If you love your team, you wear their colors and no NFL team would ever have pink as one of their colors. Thanks, Alyssa Milano, for even managing to ruin pro sports. Go back to your insipid TV shows, please.
Alice eyeballed me as she put the shirt back. “You’re silently cursing Alyssa Milano again, aren’t you?” Okay, I knew I had an irrational hatred for her but I couldn’t help myself. And pink?
“Maybe.” Alice laughed and held up a red t-shirt with Arizona Cardinals on the front and Cullen 10 on the back. It was simple and fitting so I took that and smiled at her.
“Much better.”
“Is that all you’re going to get? What about a jersey?”
I wanted his jersey but they were ridiculously overpriced and…”I’d rather steal one of his like you did Jasper’s.”
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