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“Spoilsport,” I grumble, sliding off him and flopping heavily to my side. He chuckles, which turns into full-out laughter as I cross my arms over my chest, and do my best to mean mug him.
Of course, the glare changes as I watch his taut ass stroll across my bedroom toward the bathroom, but I’m not going to confess that little secret to him.
* * *
“You’re goingto have to add more supplies to your wallet,” I tease as he gathers his stuff. His electricity is once again back on, and even though I hate that he has to leave, I have to work tonight and will need to get some sleep, plus he has to pick up Dusty from his sister.
“I’m going to get a box for here, and one for my place,” he promises, smirking at me. “The only reason I carry them for the boys is sometimes, when they’re hanging out with friends or partying after a win, they’re ill-prepared for the situation, and quite honestly, I don’t want any of them going through the hell I did with Stacey if I can help it.”
“I didn’t say anything against it, Jett. They should carry their own, too, though.”
He gives me a rueful look then rebuts, “They do, but sometimes they forget to ‘replenish their stash’ as I’ve been told by them a time or two.”
I can’t help giggling because it sounds like something a teenage boy would use as an excuse.
“I hope they’re all feeling better.” They were in so much pain and terribly sick that my heart felt saddened for them.
He grabs my hand and leads us into my living room, dropping his bag by the door, and pulling me into his arms. My head is resting against his chest, and I hear his heartbeat steadily beating, lulling me into a contented state. “I’ve been getting regular texts from either my players or their parents. All are feeling better and ready to hit the field on Monday, which is good because we’re heading into the playoffs for the state championship in our division, and I need them all ready. Now, you’re on duty for the next three nights, right?”
I nod. “Yes, three on, two off, then four on, three off.”
“So, we might have to be creative in order to see each other.”
“I always eat before I head into work, usually around six or so. Granted, it’s breakfast but who doesn’t like eating that for dinner?” I ask. “You and Dusty are welcome to join me any one of those nights you’d like.”
“Or we could grab a family chicken meal and bring it over. I understand you’re a sucker for their food any time they’re open for business,” he replies, grinning at me.
“Aha, I see small town gossip is still alive and well in Possum Run,” I retort. “I love that place, though. They have great portions, the chicken has a good flavor beyond what they season it with, and their prices are affordable.”
“Maybe we can grab drinks at Ike’s on one of your off nights,” he suggests, changing the subject.
“I’d like that, Jett.”
A ping from his phone has him pulling it out, then bursting into laughter. “Dusty says to hurry up and kiss you so I can come get him, because he’s figured out how to beat the next level of his game,” he reveals, reading me the message.
“Then you better go so he’s not kept waiting,” I reply, smiling up at him.
“Oh, I’ll go, but not before I get my fill of you to last until we see each other again.” Pulling me tighter into his arms, we spend the next ten minutes making out much like teenagers, although I have no personal knowledge or experience of that, much to my chagrin. My high school years were lackluster compared to the young adult romances I’ve binged on during my read-a-thons.
“Bye, Jett,” I murmur against his lips as he pulls back slightly.
“Bye, Sunday.”
I watch as he walks out my door to his truck, then wave goodbye as he honks his horn before pulling out of my driveway, idling in the street until I step through the threshold where I close and lock the door. Only then does he drive away.
Best. Date. Ever.
ChapterTwelve
Jett
The past twoweeks have been hectic between practices to get ready for the playoffs, ensuring Dusty does his homework, and spending time with Sunday… but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I grin thinking about last weekend when we went to Ike’s. While it’s a bar, they have some of the best burgers and onion rings around, so we placed an order of those, grabbed our drinks, then found a table to settle into since the waitress would handle serving us our food once it was plated.
We were laughing over something one of the kids had done at practice, when a male voice called out, “Sunday? Is it really you?”
Her gaze slid sideways, and I saw her pale slightly, but her nervousness never showed in her voice. “Hello, Jonas,” she replied.
“Wow, I knew you lived here too, but since I hadn’t run into you, I just figured you were avoiding me.” I held back my snort of amusement, that man was a moron. He watched her like a boy who lost his puppy. I waited for his tongue to lop to the side and drool.
