“But,” I say. “We both know it wouldn’t work. I’m the head coach at Kensley. You’re my assistant coach. I can’t come out and be in a . . .”—I sigh heavily because I know what I want, even if it’s moving fast and this was only the first kiss—“relationship with a man.”
He looks a little shaken by my honesty, but not horrified. He doesn’t try to scramble off my lap and run away, so that’s good, I think.
My brain is running too fast, going over every single outcome of this conversation, from him laughing at me to him saying it’s probably best if we just remain friends.
Stupid, stupid mouth. I should have kept it shut.
Then we could just be kissing instead of having the inevitable talk that’ll lead to no more kissing.
Stupid.
SIXTEEN
CHANCE
A relationship. He wants a relationship with me. It’s kind of scrambled my brain and left me speechless.
Even more so than when he kissed me.
I knew there was an attraction between us. A flirtation. But I still never thought he’d act on it. I thought for sure I’d go crazy or maybe even make a move and he’d shove me away, but never in a million years did I think he’d kiss me.
And when he did, it was like it was on. My entire body lit up, and all I wanted to do was stay in this little cocoon of his house in the country. Away from town and everyone in it.
But then he stopped it. Which is totally fine. Even the word relationship doesn’t scare me away like you’d think it would. Someone who’s used to totally casual hookups, who had a fucked-up experience recently where I lost everything I thought was important.
But no . . . A relationship . . . One with Coach Noah Asher? Yeah, sign me the hell up.
Except there was a but that went along with it.
And that’s what has me shaken to my core.
“Okay, so if we weren’t coaches in Kensley . . .” He’s holding onto my biceps, his grip firm, and I’m holding onto his steady shoulders as I look into his eyes. “You’d want a relationship with me?”
He licks his lips, and I’m once again reminded of how damn good he tastes. Of how unbelievably good his kiss felt. Of how I want more. So much more. “I would, but . . .”
I place my finger over his firm, kissable lips. “You would,” I finish.
He nods, not removing my finger, and I smile. “But . . .”
I shake my head, then tap my finger over his lips before dropping my hand back to his shoulder. “I would too.”
“You would?” He looks surprised. I should be hurt that he thought I was just a fuckboy. But I haven’t really given him any evidence to prove I’m not yet. Still, thinking about the time we’ve spent together—it was a rough start, but after that—movies and just relaxing here in his living room. The breakfast at the diner yesterday. I can’t stop thinking about him.
All I want is to be around him.
“Of course I want to try dating you. I’m crazy about you,” I admit and then lean forward and kiss him softly. But despite my weeping dick, I don’t let it go too far because we need to talk about this.
“I’m crazy about you too.” He grins, but then his face grows sullen. “But we’re coaches. And we do live in Kensley.”
I shake my head. “I don’t care.”
“Chance—” he starts, but I shake my head again.
“I don’t care. We can have this, and no one has to know about it.”
“No,” he says firmly, his expression going dark and stormy, more like when I first met him. “I won’t make you hide who you are. You shouldn’t have to do that.”
“How about you let me decide what I can handle. I’m a big boy.” I say it firmly enough for him to understand.
“I know that, but it’s still not fair.”
I grasp his chin with my fingers when he starts to look away from me. I hate the hopeless look on his handsome face. “There are a lot of unfair things in this world.” I’m still hanging onto his chin as I press my lips softly to his and then pull back slightly. “But getting to date a super sexy although sometimes very grumpy Coach . . .” I kiss him again, releasing his chin and then kiss along his jaw. “Getting to kiss you . . .” I lean forward and nip at his neck. “And maybe more . . .”
“Oh, God, please more.” he says in a super sexy rasp as he grabs the back of my head and holds me there.
I grin against his skin and suck and nibble on his throat. “We can have more.” I kiss along his neck and back up his jaw to his perfect lips while his fingers grip my hair.
“We can’t.”
“We can,” I say simply. “You give me the go-ahead, and I’ll give you every bit more.”
I watch him swallow hard, and he looks so damn conflicted. I don’t want to coerce him into anything he’s not ready for.
“Or . . .” I force myself to say with a smile that isn’t quite real. “We can continue the friend thing without the more. Because that means a lot to me too.” I mean that with my whole heart. His friendship is the first where I’ve been able to be completely myself.
“I want more with you. I want to date you, but I can’t do it in public. I don’t know when or if I’ll ever be able to.”
It hurts to think about us only being a couple in private. It’s not something I ever thought I’d do, but for him, I’m willing to try. “So we take it slow. We get to know each other.” My hands slide down his chest and over the soft cotton of his t-shirt, all the way down to the hem. “Very, very well.” I tug slightly, and he immediately lifts his arms so I can pull his shirt off.
I was right about his body. It’s fucking glorious, with light chest hair over his pecs and a sexy-as-hell happy trail that goes from his belly to the waist of his jeans. He’s not ripped, but his stomach is firm and flat, and his pecs are defined. I run my hand over his chest and down his stomach, loving the way he trembles for me.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
I can see in his eyes that he fears that totally and completely. I want to take those fears away, but I’m afraid of it too. There’s no way it won’t hurt like hell if we have to end it. But if I have the opportunity to have a taste of him, I’m going to take it. And then, hopefully we can go back to being friends.
It’s possible. People have done it.
“We won’t hurt each other. I want this.” I let my hand rest over his heart as I look into his eyes. “Do you?”
He nods without hesitation, and that’s all I need. We can figure out all the other stuff later. I lean forward and kiss him hard, and he seems to be fully on board. I’m not sure how far he wants to go, and honestly, despite the massive case of blue balls, I’d be more than happy to kiss him just like this.
But he surprises me by pulling my shirt up and off, his hands roaming all over my heated skin. He traces every hard-earned groove and ridge. “Jesus, fuck. You really are twenty-five.”
“Ha,” I laugh. “I hope I look as good as you do at your age, old man.”
He growls and cups my ass in his big hands, pulling my dick flush with his. “I’m still very good.”