AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Coach sinks back into his seat and silence fills the room. I stare at the playbook, not daring to lift my eyes to Sloane’s.
“Everybody finished? I’ve got clean up.” Sloane starts stacking empty dishes, not waiting for an answer. Coach touches her on the arm.
“You okay, baby? I’m sure today was hard for you.” Sloane winces, staring down at the floor.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Right as rain, actually.” Her voice tips up into the forced-cheery range and she shrugs, narrow shoulders drooping.
“Better off now than later,” Coach says, patting her arm. “All for the best.”
She nods and huffs out a breath, then pivots toward the sink, turning her back on us.
“Yep.” She turns on the faucet full blast, aggressively rinsing the plates, and I wonder what exactly they’re talking about.
But I don’t dare ask. Whatever it is feels personal.
“All right. I’m gonna go catch the ESPN highlights. You two are welcome to join.” He hooks his thumb in the direction of the living room.
“Maybe later,” Sloane says, still scrubbing.
“Okay.” Coach squeezes her shoulder, then grabs his beer and ambles into the living room not giving me so much as a backward glance.
Because he trusts you with his daughter.
The thought weighs heavy on my mind as Sloane sashays past me, gliding from the sink to the table, then back again. She’s wearing the same T-shirt from earlier, butthrew on a pair of tiny denim shorts before supper. The type that’s so short the pockets hang lower than the frayed hem, leaving miles of upper thigh exposed.
Good god, this is going to be a long, hot summer.
Sweat beads on my lower back as my eyes travel up her legs, landing on her juicy ass. An ass I’d definitely like to caress, squeeze, maybe even smack.
But no matter how badly I’d like to hit that, Sloane’s still the coach’s daughter.
Firmly off-limits, an unspoken rule for every member of the Thunder Creek football team.
Date anyone you want, as long as it’s not Sloane Carter.
And I’m betting that rule still stands, especially with me accepting shelter and coaching from her father.
Besides, I can’t afford to fuck this up.
There is no back-up plan.
Football is—and always has been—the whole plan. Now’s not exactly the time to take my eye off the ball.
“Cam?” Sloane’s voice interrupts my worrying. “Can you bring me the rest of the silverware, please?”
She tips her head at the knife sitting next to the pizza box and I snatch it up, standing.
“Sorry, I should have offered to help with the dishes.” I meet her at the sink, handing over the knife, and she gives it a good scrub before rinsing the bubbles away.
“It’s fine. You’re the guest.” She swipes at the hair flopping over her eye with the crook of her arm, pushing the dark fringe out of her way.
“Technically, I suppose. But I need to pull my weight around here, if I’m going to be staying for a while.”
“Agreed. How about I let you take out the trash?” She shoots me a cheeky grin, and I can’t help but laugh.
There’s the Sloane I know, always quick with acomeback. It’s one of the many things I loved about her. That and her smile, a smile that stretches from her mouth all the way to her eyes, instantly making you feel better, special.
Like you were the only person in the room, quite possibly the world.
