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So Ezra did, but unfortunately, Mackie had a solid alibi and not a single dent on his pretty truck.
Who was his alibi, you ask? Coach Casper.
But the timing was off, the suspicion was there, and everyone was watching.
I should’ve known then that there was something uncomfortably wrong with that picture, but I didn’t.Chapter 20Why is it called ‘throat punch Thursday?’ Why can’t it be ‘I can throat punch you no matter what day of the week it is’ day?
-Raleigh to Ezra
Raleigh
Four and a half months later
“How was Morgan?” Ezra asked as he walked in the door to my place—our place.
Ezra had officially moved in last week, and we were now living together like one very happy couple.
“Morgan’s up, moving around, and complaining that he’s ready to get out of the rehab part of the hospital and get home. He says it’s not any better than the actual hospital was.” I laughed. “It was good to see him smiling.”
Ezra groaned and fell onto the couch face first. “That’s good to hear. I wanted to go see him, but I didn’t find time before visiting hours were up.”
We’d done a lot of visiting with Morgan over the last couple of weeks.
Since both Ezra and I had a lot of time on our hands thanks to school letting out, we’d used it to our advantage.
How had we done that?
By moving in together, visiting Morgan, and starting various football and baseball camps for kids of all ages.
Well, I didn’t participate in the football camps. I participated by offering my moral support from the sidelines where I sat under an umbrella in my fancy zero-gravity chair with a cooler of cold Dr. Peppers and munchies.
But I was there, and available to help if I was needed—which ended up being a whole lot more than I thought was needed.
“How was work?” I teased.
Ezra rolled over onto his back.
“After you left you mean?” he questioned.
I nodded. “It reached a hundred and four, and the athletic trainer called practice until the rain cooled it down ten degrees. But then it was so humid it felt like we were in a sauna, and I called practice because I had sweat dripping down my balls.”
I giggled and walked to the kitchen, snatching my phone from the countertop.
“Do you still want to go on a date?” I teased.
He’d promised me that today would be the day that we celebrated our eight-month anniversary—and not the anniversary of us becoming an official couple since we couldn’t actually remember—but when he dropped a box of condoms on my face and finally noticed me.
He’d found the receipt for his wrapping paper when we were moving, and today was officially the day.
“Sure,” Ezra yawned broadly. “I just gotta go take a shower.”
I glanced at him.
He was now leaning against the couch with his head buried between two couch cushions—oh, and his eyes weren’t open.
“Do you want to try that new place on High Road?” I asked about Poison Jacks, the newest bar/pub in town.
Ezra squinted at me for all of two point five seconds before shaking his head. “Nah. That doesn’t look like my type of place.”
I walked over to the back of the couch and leaned my hands on the cushions before leaning over so that our faces were lined up, though upside down.
He blinked open his eyes, and I felt my heart flutter in my chest.
“How about a movie?” I asked softly. “We can rent one on Amazon, and I can order pizza.”
His smile was soft. “Why are you so good to me?”
I bent until our lips were touching, delicately placing a single chaste kiss on his lips before pulling away. “Because I love you, Coach McDuff. Even when you smell like sweaty balls.”
Before I could so much as pull away, he had me around the waist and I was flying head over heels onto the couch.
My shriek of surprise had me shaking as laughter started to pour out of me.
Then, I got an up close and personal interaction with his crotch, and he most definitely didn’t smell like sweaty balls. He smelled like sexy man.
And before I knew it, neither one of us was thinking about much of anything but each other.
An hour later, we did indeed end up having pizza and watching a movie, which I guess worked out for us since tomorrow was our first official day back at school.
Ezra had technically been there for the last two weeks when he’d started two-a-days with the football team, but tomorrow would be our first day back as we got our classrooms ready for students.
“I’m not looking forward to tomorrow,” I groaned into his side. “I want to live like this forever.”
He ran his palm up my hip and settled it just underneath my breasts. “Maybe next year.”
I frowned and rolled until my head was resting on his thigh. “Why next year?”
