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“Right under your phone where you couldn’t miss it.”
I obviously did miss it. I take another step toward her. I can smell her from here—that coconutty, beachy scent that I remember so well.
“I was devastated you never called,” she admits.
“Fuck,” I mutter. “I never saw it.”
“Oh,” she says. Her eyes flick away from me for a second before returning to mine. “And if you had?”
That’s one of the things I like about her. She’s not afraid to ask the questions that leave her vulnerable, too. It makes me feel like we’re in this together.
“That night, Des...” I trail off, not sure what to say, not sure what todo. I’ve never felt this unsure about myself before. Ever. “It was one of the best nights I’ve ever had,” I finally admit. “And when I woke up and you were gone, I was devastated, too.” It feels too raw, too real, too exposed to be admitting these things to her.
I take the final step toward her, closing the gap between us as I push my hips to hers, boxing her in against the wall.
Anybody could walk down this hallway. Anybody could see us here, and anybody could report back to her father what’s going on.
I don’t think I can make myself stop. I need to touch her. I need to kiss her. I need to fuck her.
She swallows, her eyes moving up to mine as heat passes between us.
I run my fingertips lightly along her jawline as my eyes search hers. “I want this, Des. I wantyouin a way I’m not sure I’ve ever wanted anyone before.” I lean down and nip a kiss to her jaw where my fingers just were.
Her arms loop around my waist, and she pulls me tightly against her body. “I want you, too,” she breathes.
I pull back to stare down at her, and the intensity between us is overwhelming. It feels soright. Why the fuck does she have to be my coach’s daughter?
The thought snaps me back to reality. “Fuck,” I mutter. “I can’t, Des. I can’t do this with the OC’s daughter. No matter how much I want you, I can’t be with you.”
“Then we do it in secret,” she suggests, and she rises up to her tiptoes to press soft kisses along my jawline. She trails them down my neck, and I tilt my head back, my neck cording as I stare up at the ceiling, as if the answer will be there. “Just one time, Asher,” she begs. “Give me one more time, so I can see if whatever we shared that night is real or if it will always belong to that one night.”
One night is a dangerous fucking game when the feelings between us are this strong.
It’s just lust. Attraction. It can’t be real feelings, not when it was only one night. Maybe I need to give in to prove that’s true.
But the relief I felt when I saw her in the family waiting room earlier tells me it’s not true at all.
And the stunned devastation that followed it when I heard Ellie’s words that she’s Coach Dixon’s daughter tell me everything I need to know about my feelings for this woman.
They make no sense. They’re overboard, overwhelming, out of control.
But that tracks. That’s me. The baby of the family. Sometimes it feels like being the youngest—the baby—is my only identity.
Little Asher Nash, the adventurous, sometimes impulsive, sometimes petulant one. The one who sometimes bucks authority and has a wild streak and has an eccentric fashion sense but always manages to come out on top…until that one time he didn’t.
And now I’m paying the ultimate price for that as I realize that in order to get back to the top in my career, I might have tosacrifice what has the potential to be the most important part of my personal life.
One taste. I can allow myself one taste, a final goodbye to the thing that never should’ve happened with the woman it never should’ve happened with in the first place.
I lean down and brush my lips to hers, and the mere brush isn’t enough.
I press my mouth more fully to hers, and her mouth opens immediately to mine, plush and pliable. The urgency is intense as we make out in this tiny hallway, and anybody could walk down here at any moment.
Anybody.
Including teammates who don’t want me to start over them. Including two of my brothers. Includingher father.
It’s that final thought that has me pulling back.
