“He’s too young to be working,” she says firmly. “He should be out with his friends, and ignoring homework, and being a regular kid. He doesn’t need to be worrying about this kind of stuff.”
I lightly brush my thumb over Skylar’s cheek, her eyes filling with tears at my touch. “It’s okay to ask for help, baby,” I whisper.
She doesn’t let the tears fall, of course. “I don’t want him to have to help,” she says on a breath. “He’s just a kid. He doesn’t deserve this.”
I finally wrap my arms around her and hold her tight to my body, relieved when she melts into me. “Neither of you deserves this. You’re both just trying to deal with the hand you’ve been dealt.”
Her arms wrap around my waist and her face buries into my chest. She doesn’t say anything, she just lets me hold her.
“I think it would make him feel better if he could help,” I say after a few moments, murmuring the words into Skylar’s hair. “I know you’re trying to protect him, but this doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”
When she pulls back, there’s no sign of tears, no sign of grief. She just seems tired and a little reluctant. “What kind of job would it be?”
I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I took him next door, to the pizza place. They needed someone to help with dishes and cleaning.”
“And they hired him?” she asks.
I shrug. “I vouched for him. I’ve known the owner for a long time.”
Skylar swallows roughly, but nods. “Okay, that doesn’t sound so bad. With his season over, he’ll have time for it, and if you know the guy, then…”
“I’ll keep an eye on him,” I assure her. “But I promise he’s in good hands. And this is a good thing.”
Another nod, this one less shaky. “You’re right. I can do this. He can do this.”
Pressing a kiss to her temple, I whisper a quick, “Proud of you.”
That brings a smile to her face. I wonder how many times she’s heard it, and how many times I can get away with saying it. Because fuck, I’m so amazed by her.
She cups my face and presses a sweet kiss to my lips. “Thank you.”
My hands curl around her waist to pull her tighter against me. “You’re very welcome.”
“So, what was your first job?” she asks after a moment, propping her chin on my chest so she can look up at me.
“Cashier. Well, technically, I was a bagger first, then I worked up to being a cashier.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad. Scanning things and swiping cards? I bet your brain stayed on jiu-jitsu the whole time.”
“You’re forgetting I grew up in the era of cash and checks. If I didn’t stay focused, I was risking fucking up money-things. Not a good idea.”
She sighs and drops her forehead to my chest. “I always forget how old you are.”
Chuckling, I tug on her hair. “I thought you said I was experienced.”
When she raises her head to look at me again, that familiar playful sparkle is back in her eyes, her stress from earlier forgotten. A sensual smile curves her lips. “You’re that, too.”
My lips drop to her neck as my other hand drifts under the hem of her tank top to brush teasing lines along her stomach. “Sounds like you might need a lesson to differentiate between the two,” I murmur against her skin.
I feel the shiver that runs through her body. “Well…you are the coach,” she mumbles. “You’re basically required to teach me.”
I nip at the line of her neck, loving the sound of that. Wrong or not, there’s something insanely hot about the teacher/student thing.
Unable to stay away from her mouth any longer, I straighten and take her lips in a heated kiss. She opens for me instantly, like the good student she is. When she tangles her tongue with mine, a bolt of lust courses through my body, and I can’t help but groan.
It’s not lost on me that we’re standing at the entrance of my gym, visible from the street. It’s late, and we’re not on a main street, but anyone could peek through the large windows and see me making out with a younger woman.
And suddenly, I want to play into the wrongness. Just for tonight.