Page 82 of No Place Like Home

This was going to be fun.

* * *

There wasnothing like the basics to remind you why you fell in love with the sport in the first place.

Football had always been a part of my life. I thought back on my childhood, and I couldn’t recall a single moment when there wasn’t a ball attached to my hand. That changed today. Playing and teaching these kids, I remembered the first time I held a ball. The pigskin was too big and rough for my toddler's hands still, but it was the best feeling I had ever felt. My father would toss the ball with me. The patience my old man had to throw it back and forth with me for hours, just because I said I loved it.

No expectations. Not even a real play, just tossing the damn ball back and forth. Simple, and yet I had forgotten all about it. As I grew older, it was the next win, the next game, the next endorsement.

The simplicity of the game got lost, and the magic with it.

One of the girls threw the ball at Jess, and she shrieked when she caught it. The kids started to tell her to run since they had picked up the rules much quicker than her. I wished I could have run after her, but I watched as the kids on my team all mobbed her.

“That’s it!” I yelled with glee.

My little team came running back toward me.

“We won!”

They all surrounded me and started to hug me.

“Thank you so much, mister,” they said, and the high I hadn’t felt in so long came back with a reborn passion.

The bell rang again, signaling kids to return to their class.

“Would you look at the time?” Jess said without meeting my eyes. “Time for us to continue our lesson, and time for you to go.”

I blocked her path, and then she looked at me just to glare. I found it amusing the way those dark eyes got irritated.

“You know what? I think I’ll stay.”

CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR

There wasno point in arguing with Quincy, not if it would cause a scene.

Did I have fun? Yes, but that wasn’t the point. I couldn’t think properly. Especially not when I could feel him staring at me.

For fuck’s sake, I was in a classroom with seventeen tiny humans, and a professional football player stood out like a sore thumb. But somehow, I managed to get through class. How I did it, who knew, but I deserved some type of medal for it.

The clock kept mocking me, reminding me that the end of the day was almost upon us. I was trying to figure out how to run away without making it seem like I was running away. Maybe I could get Charlie to pull the fire alarm. No one would question him.

No, that was a bad idea. The fire department would come, and more people would see Q here.

Shit. I was stuck with him.

I stood up to hand out the homework, and I felt his eyes on me. The cocky boy who was used to have everyone’s attention had his fixed on me. Maybe if I had looked deep inside one of my boxes, I wouldn’t have come to the conclusion I came to as I finished handing the papers. Perhaps if I’d acknowledged my feelings once in a while, I would have known that it was a disaster waiting to happen.

“Okay, guys, time to get ready,” I told them with a shaky voice.

Nerves were starting to get the better of me.

As I watched the kids get ready, I calmed myself. I think the reason I decided to say yes was that I knew that if I said no, someone else would jump to take my place, and the thought of that made me feel more uneasy than sleeping with him again.

The bell rang, and all the kids said their goodbyes to Quincy and me. It had been fascinating watching him with them. It had reminded me of when I would watch his games on TV.

Trying to maintain some sense of control, I waited until the last kid got out, then closed the door.

I considered myself a smart person, but that move was dumb, and I knew it when Mr. Football God stood up. Suddenly, it got hard to breathe. The room felt smaller, and I realized that I didn't have control when it came to Quincy Hardwell.

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