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This was a capital-B Bad Idea. Would we be able to keep our hands off one another? After a series of close calls, I didn’t know how much longer I could withstand the agony of waiting. All I wanted was him, inside me, filling me until I gushed happiness.
But this was selfish, so selfish. His job was at risk, as was my scholarship. There were huge life consequences at play, and it seemed impractical to ignore them. If I threw away my shot, would that make me too immature to even be dating a grown man like him? Were there just too many obstacles in our way? Maybe in another life, we would’ve worked seamlessly, would’ve come together like two halves of a whole, but in this one… in this one, was it not meant to be?
The notion tore through me like a knife. I had to be with him.
And, I thought to myself, justifying what I was about to agree to, the private training sessions, devoid of any romantic and sexual context, are a good idea. They’ll take you to the next level.
Yes, what a great point. In fact, they would help me keep my scholarship secure. The better I played, the less likely I was to lose it. Right? This was an excellent plan.
Or at least, that was what I told myself, over and over and over again.
And, er, it had been my proposition, so technically speaking, backing out now would look… suspicious? Weird? I wasn’t sure. I thought it would only serve to underscore that there were other issues afoot.
Private training it was.
“That’s awesome,” I said aloud. “I’m excited to train with you.”
What did I mean by ‘train’? God, it felt like my every word was laced with innuendo, as though I just couldn’t help myself.
“And I as well,” he replied. “I bet you could teach me a thing or two.”
I blushed. “You’re kidding, right? You’re like a soccer god.”
“Then you’re ‘like’ a soccer goddess.”
A laugh burst from my throat. “Are you making fun of my ‘likes’?”
He grinned. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
Those white teeth, standing in such strong contrast to the stereotype image of British dental care, looked about ready to take a bite out of me. Yum.
“Okay then,” he said. “You’ll meet me tomorrow, bright and early. Eight.”
“But it’s already two,” I replied, growing pale.
“I thought you liked early morning runs.”
“Yes,” I agreed, “when I get sleep.”
He shrugged his shoulders innocently. “Guess we’ll just call this payback for drinking during practice.”
Oof, he had me there. And I’d thought I was gonna get off scot free. How naïve.
“I’m gonna be hungover,” I warned.
“Yuuuup,” Simon confirmed, his lips trying to hold back a large smile.
“This punishment is cruel and unusual.”
“Spending time with me is that tortuous?” he said, with faux disappointment.
No. Never, I thought.
What I actually replied was, “Ugh, all right, way to guilt me.”
The lips which had been restraining a smile broke into a full grin.
“You’re funny, you know that?” he asked.
“Hah, thanks.”
He continued, “Most girls wouldn’t talk to their coach like that. Don’t I, I dunno, intimidate you, even a wee bit?”
I drew myself up, pulling my shoulders straight so that I could meet his gaze dead on, as though I were a cowboy going into a duel.
“I can take you,” came my reply.
Simon licked his lips, and replied, “Is that a challenge?”
Feeling a bit full of myself, drunk on nerves and, er, actual beer, I stepped in closer, as though bracing for a showdown.
“You can call it that if you like.”
“Hm, very confident,” he replied, amused. “Too confident. I think we’ll just have to whip you into shape tomorrow.”
“You’re welcome to whip me all you want,” I said.
I watched his chest heave up and down once before he reined in his breathing. Damnit. Why wasn’t I able to get under his skin the way he could get under mine? It made me feel weak.
“Tomorrow, eight,” he reiterated. “Meet in the forest.”
“Where in the forest? It’s a big forest.”
“How about that clearing where you knocked me over?”
“Hey, that wasn’t my fault,” I protested. “You were in my way.”
He laughed. “Okay, I’ll give you that one. Do you think you can find your way back to that spot, or should we meet at the front entrance?”
Of course I could find my way back. That spot was the first time we’d touched, the first time I’d felt his naked skin. My body had grown an internal compass that could lead me back there at a moment’s notice.
Aloud, I said, “Yeah, sure.”
“Great, then I’ll see you then. Now go get some sleep.”
Sleep? Hah. As though that would come tonight. No, I’d be too busy anticipating alone time with Simon.
“Okay,” I replied. “Be sure to bring your A-game.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I will.”
Chapter 15
Simon
I was up painfully early the following morning, my mind swimming with thoughts of Catya.
