RISKY PLAY (RED CARD #1) BY RACHEL VAN DYKEN Page 0,44

smile broke out into a huge grin. “You were saying?”

I bit down on my bottom lip and then took a step toward him, then two, until I could smell his spicy body wash and minty breath. “Thank you. Just . . . thank you for standing up for me—even though you also confessed to the whole restaurant that I slept with you.”

“Weak moment,” he admitted. “And you’re welcome . . . if that guy ever speaks to you again, just tell him I’m coming for his other testicle.”

I burst out laughing. “Yeah, but maybe I won’t word it that way?”

Slade stared at my mouth, then his eyes flickered back up to mine. “Great idea.”

“So,” I croaked and then wrapped my arms around his middle.

He stood still for a few seconds, making me feel slightly stupid, and then he was hugging me back.

He hugged just as good as he kissed.

With his whole body.

I closed my eyes.

And then, I stood on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

“My other cheek feels left out,” he whispered in a dark voice that sent chills down my spine. I could have sworn his golden eyes were glowing at me as an electrical current of awareness shot through my body.

I rolled my eyes, trying to play it off, then moved to his right cheek, only to have him capture my lips right before I was able to make contact with his skin.

He kissed me softly, never even using his tongue as his lips slid against mine, and then he pulled away.

“You promised.” I wasn’t angry. Who would be angry? I was more . . . drugged.

“I slipped,” he said in an innocent voice. “Plus it’s really dark and it looked like you were going for my ear. You’ve been embarrassed enough tonight, can’t imagine what would happen if you fell face-first against the doorbell.”

“How . . . chivalrous of you.” I shook my head in disbelief.

He put his hand on his chest. “Thank you, that was my aim.”

We stared at one another for way too long without speaking.

It was becoming a nasty habit on my part.

So I cleared my throat, another nasty habit, and stepped away from the temptation, away from the cliff I wanted to jump off. The only thing that kept me grounded was the knowledge that last time I jumped . . .

The only one to break my fall was me.

And that was a very depressing and lonely thought.

“Night, Slade.”

“You should stay.” He leaned against the doorframe. “We can watch a movie.”

“It’s late.”

“Dessert, then?”

“Slade.” I eyed him suspiciously.

He hung his head. “You could sleep over?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He just grinned. “Had to try.”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t give it a little effort—friends, though, remember?”

“Only because you keep reminding me,” he said softly. “Be safe.”

“I live five minutes away. I’ll be fine.” I gave him a little wave and got back in the SUV before I did something stupid like say yes to a movie, which we both knew wouldn’t have just been a movie.

It was late. I’d had wine.

He was being nice.

And he’d given me a sample of his flavor again, the way he tasted.

Of course it wouldn’t be a movie.

It would be dessert in his bed.

And I’d hate myself for it in the morning.

I squeezed my eyes shut and leaned back against the soft leather. Why did things have to be so complicated?

Chapter Thirty-One

SLADE

“Let’s just get this over with,” I mumbled to myself as I pulled up to the Kamiakin Elementary School.

Jagger was leaning against his car like he’d been waiting for me since the ass crack of dawn. I rolled my eyes and purposely took my time cutting the engine, opening my door, staring him down, slamming said door, and crossing my arms in response.

“You look radiant this morning, sunshine. Something crawl up your ass and decide to stay there, or do you always look like that and I’ve just now noticed it?” I grinned from ear to ear.

“You’re probably just now noticing on account of your head being stuck in your tiny prick for God knows how long,” he countered with a grin of his own.

“Touché,” I grumbled as we fell into step next to each other and walked onto the field.

It was Monday morning—our conditioning practice started in two hours, and yet there we were. Getting a week pass so we could coach some kids who probably wouldn’t know what a goal was if it hit them in the ass.

The younger ones were fun, don’t get me wrong, some