Page 8 of Every Beat of My Heart

Then we were alone. Jameson leaned one shoulder against the door jam, cradling the ball in one hand. I couldn’t help but notice how big his hands were around the ball. There was something about him standing in the doorway, taking up all the space in the room.

“You don’t have to play with him. I know you’re busy between the fire department and teaching.”

Jameson’s lips quirked. “Seriously, you’re doing me a favor. I’m supposed to coach a team of middle schoolers this year, and I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve never coached before.”

“You played football when you were younger?”

Jameson nodded. “In high school. I was scouted to play football in college but didn’t bother pursuing it.”

“Why not?” I would have thought someone like Jameson would have jumped at the chance to play in college and then professionally, if it was a possibility.

“It felt like too much pressure. I just wanted to have fun in school,” Jameson said it lightly, but I had a feeling it was a heavier decision for him. But we’d only just met, and I didn’t feel right asking more questions.

“I really appreciate you throwing the ball with him. His father isn’t into that sort of thing.”

His brow furrowed. “Is he around?”

“Eric sees him on weekends when he’s not working. They’ll play video games together.”

“It’s good he has him.”

I nodded as I stood and moved around the desk. “Just because things didn’t work out between us doesn’t mean he shouldn’t have a good relationship with his father. They’re just different.”

“I always played with my brothers growing up. I can’t imagine not having any siblings.”

“That’s why I’m grateful we live in a neighborhood. There’s usually someone who can throw around with him. And if not, I’ll step in. But I know he prefers to play with kids his own age or someone who can catch the ball without complaining how much it hurts.”

“You should get gloves.” Jameson moved toward me, lifting my hand between us. He placed the football in my palm. “When you catch the ball, give a little in your arms. Like you’re catching a baby or an egg and you don’t want it to break.” He pushed my arms back a little to demonstrate, and my breath caught in my throat at his proximity.

“That will take away the sting?” I asked, very aware of his hand cradling mine, sending tingles through my body.

“Not entirely. But it helps. That’s why I suggested the gloves. Most professionals wear them. Although theirs are sticky so it’s easier to catch.”

My eyes widened. “Wow. I had no idea.”

I felt flush and a little overheated, like I was coming down with something. Except I didn’t feel sick. Instead, I felt jittery.

There was something about him. He was quick to smile, and he was charming. But I sensed something deeper inside, something I didn’t think he shared with many people. What other single man substitute taught in his spare time at a middle school because he enjoyed teaching kids? It was as intriguing as it was attractive.

Jameson finally took a step back. “Did you get your work done?”

I nodded. “I did. If you weren’t here, I would have played with him and been up late grading, so thank you.”

He flashed that easy-going smile, the one that never failed to make my knees go weak. “Anytime.”

He was just being nice, but it warmed my chest anyway. I hoped we’d see him again. I hadn’t been this intrigued by anyone since my divorce. There was a teacher last year that asked me out, and we went on a few dates, but I wasn’t attracted to him. Not the way I was with Jameson.

Jameson inched toward the door. “I should head out. Let you get to bed.”

I wasn’t sure I’d go to sleep easily tonight. I’d be thinking about what it felt like to have Jameson touching me.

I followed him. “Thanks again for the instructions on the fire extinguisher and throwing the ball with Owen. I really appreciate it.”

Jameson winked at me. “I had fun.”

I flushed. I had to be careful with Jameson; he was so effortless with his charm. I wondered how many women fell for it, and whether it was just surface deep. The thing that intrigued me about him wasn’t the easy-going attitude or the smiles; it was the hint at depth I saw every once in a while.

I wanted to get to know the real Jameson, the one underneath the charm and the smiles. But I wasn’t sure anyone got to see that guy.

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