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Daily would be really, really nice.
“It’s okay.” I wrap my fingers around his wrist and squeeze gently. “Coaches aren’t supposed to play favorites.”
“Yeah, well.” With a dismissive huff and a yank, I’m wrapped in a warm embrace. “I’m not a real coach anyway.”
Ah, sweet loopholes.
Hiding my smile in his chest, I murmur, “I think I’m only gonna go to tournaments from now on. Limits the interactions.”
“I think,” Cass replies, “I should kick Kristal off the team instead.”
I pinch the abdominal muscles beneath my palm, snorting. And then I snort again when I suddenly remember how he bulldozed his way in here. “Did you seriously think I summoned you here for sex?”
Cass pulls back, peering down at me with a crooked, challenging brow. “I was beingenthusiastic.”
Suddenly, I am a million degrees.
“What?” Cass croons, chasing my eyeline when I try to evade his. “You shy now?”
I shake my head.
Hands slide beneath the hem of my shorts and knead my bare thighs. “Change your mind?”
“No.” Well, yes. Technically, I did. Several times. And then I changed it right back again.
“Thank God,” he mutters, moving on too quickly for me to properly note the complete lack of sarcasm in his tone. “What about the game? Still on?”
Once again, I melt. The game. The Wolves game that Cass bought tickets for, gave them to August as his own baby shower present. The game that has my son so excited, so happy, I think I would rather cut off a limb than deprive him of the chance to attend. “Of course.”
I feel his smile against my neck, where he migrated at some point without me noticing—or maybe I noticed and decided it was okay. I decide it’s a little more okay when teeth graze my skin, when a tongue soothes the skin, when lipssuckon the fluttering skin above my pulsepoint. “I thought we only had ten minutes.’
“I’ll be quick.”
“Hmm. What every girl wants to hear.”
* * *
“You dirty, dirty girl.”
As innocently as I can with bright red cheeks and the ghost of Cass’ hands still clinging to my skin, I shrug at the woman leaning against my car. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“The equipment shed.” Luna shakes her head, whistling. “I’m impressed. Didn’t think you had it in you.”
“Nothing happened.”
“Your fly’s undone.”
I glance down only to groan when I remember my overalls are distinctly fly-less. “You’re a child.”
“You’re suffering from a big ol’ case of the hornies, I’m guessing?”
“Thehornies?” I peek inside my car, grateful that Isaac and August are too consumed by whatever they’re doing on my phone to eavesdrop. “Jesus, Luna. That sounds like a disease. Gross.”
Luna cackles. “You fucked your boyfriend in a dusty old shed andI’mgross?”
“There was nofucking.” I’m not sure there will be any fucking. We didn’t discuss that. We didn’t discuss much of anything, really, beyond the initial‘we doing this?’conversation. We just kinda… fell into it. A rhythm. Horny, resolve, repeat.
We probably shouldn’t, right? Have sex? It’s unnecessary. There are other ways to get the job done—the job being me. Cass has proved that. He’s yet to ask for anything in return but there are other ways to do that too.
