Page 99 of Fall Fake-Out

“You could try racing me, but I’d still probably win.” I love it when her competitive spark comes out to play.

“I’d destroy you.”

“Let’s see.” She points toward the opposite end zone.

“Oh, pumpkin, even with a head start, you don’t stand a chance.”

Her eyes immediately narrow further. “If that’s how you’re going to be, then I’ll take the head start.” She points at the twenty-yard line. “I’ll start here. You can start in the end zone.”

“Twenty yards back?”

Her lips tilt into something flirtatious. “Are you scared?”

“Not in the least.” I jog backward to my starting spot.

“Go!” She takes off before I even get there.

I sprint after her. “Hey!”

Her laughter echoes across the field.

And immediately, I realize two things. One: she cheated. And two: she’s faster than I expected, but still, the distance between us shrinks.

Twenty.

Ten.

Five.

And suddenly, winning doesn’t seem nearly as important as catching her.

I reach her around the forty-yard line on the opposite side of the field.

My arms wrap around her waist. “Got you!”

I lift her clean off the ground, swinging her around with her feet out in front of her.

“Wade!” she squeals, trying to drag her feet on the turf. One shoe gets caught and trips our momentum, and suddenly, we’re both falling.

Ari lands beneath me.

For a second, neither of us moves as the laughter fades. The noise around us disappears. And all I can see is her. Pink cheeks. Heaving chest. Messy brown hair tumbling over her hoodie.

My heart races between us, and despite the brisk air, heat floods through me as our chests move up and down together. My fingers slide across her forehead, pushing back strands of hair. Her hands go to my shoulders. The space between us suddenly feels very small in the best way. Desire pumps into each heartbeat as my eyes drop to her lips.

Dang, I want to kiss her.

Her smile slowly disappears as I force my gaze back to her eyes. She’s looking at me like she’s debating the same thing I am.

I can’t help it; my gaze trails back to her lips, and for one second, I decide to give myself exactly what I want.

“Ahem.” The sound slices through the moment. Sharp and familiar.

I sit up immediately, seeing my dad a few feet away with Mr. Jex beside him. This warrants a swear word or two under my breath.

Dad's expression is unreadable, but Mr. Jex’s expression is not.

“Well,” the superintendent says, “I can see our discussions about you improving your professionalism have fallen on deaf ears.”