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She snaps up and whirls around to give me her back. “Oliver, get dressed. Now.”
Even admonished, I laugh while throwing on the last of my clothes before slipping in front of her so I can see her face.
Both now fully clothed, she combs her fingers through her tousled hair, giving off strong “I don’t have time for you” vibes, but that isn’t true. I curl one hand around her hip and slide her body close to me.
She comes willingly. We’re still on the same page. My flattened palm advances up her back to curl around her nape where I subtly angle her head just so.
“You look fucking fantastic.” Our noses are only an inch or so apart.
“Well, you’ve got that freshly fucked glow.” She quirks an auburn brow.
I raise the pitch of my voice and flutter my lashes. “Do I? That’s the look I was going for.”
She giggles into my chest. An electrifying and also comforting warmth curls around me. This right here is all I want. Her.
A clatter on the other side of the door followed by a solid heave on the wood causes us to spring apart like teenagers caught making out. Two more pushes and the door swings open.
Coach strides in. “Ah, there we go. Sorry about that Ol—” He stalls at the sight of the woman at my side. “Wren Tyler?”
“Hi Coach.” She offers a little wave.
His silvery brows furrow and he scratches at his bald head. “How’d you wind up here? Does Pop know you’re okay?”
She smiles sheepishly. “He doesn’t know I’m here, but he shouldn’t be worried. I was dropping books off for the school library. We had to make room for new ones and?—”
To save her from herself since she’s talking fast and throwing a lot at him, all clear signs that she’s on the verge of rambling, I cut in. “It’s a long story.”
“It’s my fault we got locked in.” She blushes.
“It’s no one’s fault.” I take her hand and at the same time, Coach says, “If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. I should have had Wade dismantle the door again.” He shakes his head as if chastising himself.
“Nah, Coach. It’s fine. We survived.” I share a knowing look with Wren.
“Yes, we’re fine, but I should get going.” She pulls her hand from mine. “I’ve got to get home, change, get to work.” She strolls toward the doorway. “Thanks, Coach.”
He nods and offers a tight smile, still clearly blaming himself. “All right, Wren. Be sure to call Pop and tell him you’re okay. And if he wants to be upset with anyone, tell him to come see me.”
She laughs. “All right, but I doubt that’ll be necessary.” Pausing at the door, she waits for Coach to amble toward his office before looking at me. “Bye, Twist.”
Coach takes his time and isn’t too far from us when he stops in the middle of the gym to busy himself with his phone. It’s plain to see, he’s curious and listening.
Her hair falls over one shoulder, and she licks her lips in that tentative way of hers. The way she looks at me, with tenderness and desire in her gaze and with glistening pink lips, causes the moan of longing I’ve been trying to suppress to claw its way up my throat. What I’d do to kiss her once more.
Eyes flaring, she inches closer and lowers her voice. “Oliver, will I see you soon? My offer about after work tonight still stands. I make a mean chicken pot pie, and it’s untouched at my place. ”
There’s a vulnerability to her, in her voice and body language, that I’ve never seen before and it nearly undoes me.
“I don’t know.” I drop my gaze and scratch at the scruff on my jaw.
I wish I had a better answer, but I won’t lie. I’ve got to do the right thing.
A soft sigh escapes her lips, and the light dims in her eyes. Before I can say any more, she turns and sprints from the gym.
My heart twists and stops for a beat before kicking into hyperdrive, lungs spasming and palms suddenly clammy.
What the hell am I doing? I can’t let her walk away like that.
Hands down, last night was the best of my life. If I let Wren walk away, it’ll be my biggest regret. I sprint toward the gym exit, confident I can catch her.
