Page 119 of Kiss Me Tonight

“Me too!” calls out Bobby, who’s still holding the football under his armpit.

Timmy slinks an arm over Matthew’s padded shoulders. “I mean, if he comes my way, I’m just gonna take cover.” He points up at Matt’s face. “That’s where you come in, my friend. You can take him.”

Matt, who stands almost at six feet tall, though he only recently turned fourteen, curls his gloved hands into a set of vicious claws and growls, “Gooooooo Wildcats!”

Unfortunately for him, puberty is a real pain in the ass and his voice cracks on the last syllable. I smother a laugh amidst manly guffaws. Dominic ambles toward the incoming freshman, pops him on the back with a friendly thump, and says, “Don’t worry, kid. Happened to me until I was twenty, at least.”

One hard glance at Dominic’s face and I know he’s fibbing, but some of Matt’s redness clears and the grin Dominic gives our JV-hopeful is nothing but kind understanding.

Be still, my heart.

Then he turns on me, that smile leveling out as it turns challenging.

I back up a step. “I don’t like that look, Coach.”

“You should,” he drawls, approaching me like a panther hunting its prey. Once at my side, he turns to face the team. “Who thinks Coach Levi should join the game?”

Some of the kids exchange hesitant looks.

Except for Topher, who sends me a subtle wink. “Oh, I don’t know if you guys want to take it that far.”

Bobby, falling for my son’s ploy, tosses the football up in the air before catching it again. “What? You don’t think we can take her?”

“I don’t think you can.” Topher points to the faint scar in his right eyebrow. “You know how I got this?” Everyone stares at him, waiting. “I got it because my mom taught me everything I know about ball. Every day after school we ran drills together in front of our house. One time, she threw the ball—perfect spiral, guys,perfect—and I was so dead set on getting it, I ran right into a tree.”

Timmy gapes. “Did you get the ball?”

“Of course I got the ball,” my son scoffs. “ThenI hit the tree.”

“So, she’s in then.” Dominic nabs the football from Bobby’s grasp. “We’re flagging it up, boys and woman. Get yourselves ready and then meet back here.”

I manage two steps toward the bleachers before fingers hook in the waistband of my shorts and tug me backward. Sandalwood.Dominic. Putting on my bestgo-get-‘emexpression, I face him with a smirk that feels more playful than arrogant.

“Wanting to say a few last words?” I taunt, poking him in his hard as steel chest.

He grasps my finger, lifting my hand to his mouth. Heat floods my core, and, oh man, he shouldnotbe looking at me like that when we’re surrounded by teenagers. His dark eyes skirt right, then left, before he drops a single kiss to the inside of my wrist. “Yeah,” he murmurs with a silky edge, “don’t think I’m gonna go easy on you, Coach.”

I stand up taller, spine straight, and take that final step between us. Chest to chest, I tilt my head back and stare him down. “Don’t think I’m going to go easy onyou. I feed off the fear of my enemies.”

His chuckle is nothing but hot sex and tangled sheets. “That threat ever work for you?”

“Not even a little.”

“I didn’t think so.” He gives me a gentle push toward the bleachers, the tips of his fingers coming dangerously close to the curve of my butt. When I flash him a warning glance, he pulls back boyishly and stares at his hands like they’ve personally betrayed him. “No ass grabbing at practice,” he berates, rolling his eyes. “Jesus, it’s like they don’t know any better.”

Absolutely ridiculous—but my smile lingers long after I’ve suited up with my orange flag belt looped around my hips. Since not everyone can join in at once, Dominic and I agree to play twice, first with Group A and then with Group B, who, led by Timmy, forces everyone to into some sort of choreographed cheerleading on the sidelines that has everyone rolling with laughter.

For the sake of getting me in the game longer than the normal kicker, I join the defense as one of the linebackers on the scrimmage line.

I hitch my sweats at the knees, getting down low to the ground.

One glance up puts me at eye level with Topher.

He waggles his eyebrows. “Heya, Mom.”

I give him by best mean-mugging glare. “Don’t forget who taught you everything you know.”

“I won’t”—tweet!—“oops! Got a ball to catch. See you!”

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