“We’ll figure it out as we go.” He pulls back to look at me, nothing but sincerity shining in his brown eyes. “We communicate. We’ll be honest with each other about how we’re feeling, and what we want. I’m in no rush. I like where we’re at right now in this present moment.”
Feeling him harden underneath me, I smile.
Me too.
My cheeks puffas I blow my whistle.
“Again. You can’t drop the ball every time you try to evade the defender.”
Dominique spins around, and Maddie is all over her.
“Keep cradling,” I say, walking around as the two fight for control. “Protect the ball.”
Dominique fakes left and then spins right, and she’s able to get around Maddie. She takes off running toward the net while the girls scream.
“Shoot it!” Natalie shouts.
Without hesitation, Dominique whips the ball into the net. It whizzes right past Tori.
“Yeah, Jones!” I jog onto the field. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
Dominique grins as the girls jump on her. “It worked. I did it.”
“Of course you did.” I clap her on the back. “You didn’t hesitate. You trusted your instincts.”
“Now just do that on game day, and we’ll be set,” Natalie says.
“Okay, team. That’s it for today.” I clap. “Nice work. We’re getting stronger every day.”
We walk back toward the bleachers, and the kids hydrate and stretch.
Landon walks over with the JV kids and joins our cooldown.
He’s wearing a shit-eating smirk on his face.
My chin jerks back. “What?”
“You’re walking with a limp. Did you hurt your back or something?”
My cheeks heat as I shoot him a death stare.
“Yeah,” Natalie chimes in. “I noticed it when you got here. Were you reaching for boxes in the garage again?”
Landon smiles, so pleased with himself, as he crosses his arms over his chest. “You should call me the next time you needhelp.”
I roll my eyes and whisper yell so only he can hear me. “Or maybe I should just call Travis.”
His head tips back as he laughs. “Good luck with that.”
I hate that he knows I won’t.
But that doesn’t stop the trickle of desire coursing through me being around him after last night. I keep getting hit with the dirty things he said while he was making me come.
I clear my throat. “I’m fine. Let’s just finish stretching and get out of here.”
“Coach Ainsley!”
I turn at the sound of my name. Jayden Morales’ mother enters the field from the parking lot. She’s dressed in a cream-colored pants suit, and her heels sink into the uneven grass as she stomps toward us.
