Page 65 of Love Game

A long, trilling blast of the whistle jolted him, and Danny sat bolt upright as the girls ran to her. They surrounded her at center, their faces shiny with sweat and tendrils trailing from battered ponytails. They beamed at Kate. Every one of those young, fresh faces glowed with elation. He knew that feeling. It came to him each time he fitted his fingers between the laces of a football, cupped the curved leather, cocked his arm, and let one fly. Love of the game.

Love.

Eyes fixed on the woman towering over her gaggle of munchkins, he let go of the tension inside him. It was time to stop playing it safe and start playing to win. And to win, he needed to lay it all on the line. His job. Decades of friendship. The heart thumping hard against his breastbone. He hadn’t lied when he told his mother Kate was worth the risk.

“I love her.”

He spoke the words no louder than a whisper, but he knew Mike heard him. He couldn’t be bothered with the knuckles glowing white beneath his old friend’s skin. Not when he’d lobbed his heart right at the unsuspecting woman like a Hail Mary. Closing his eyes, he envisioned it slicing through the air in a high, tight spiral, unraveling the closer it got to her. Just like he did. Danny swallowed hard but forced himself to open his eyes. He couldn’t stand envisioning his heart lying bloody and beaten at her feet. “I love her.”

“Does she love you?”

Danny opened his mouth to tell the man it was none of his damn business if she did or she didn’t, but at that moment, Kate raised her head and looked right at him.

Thank God he hadn’t heeded Mack’s advice to move higher up in the stands. For once in his life, he was more than happy to be too slow to outrun Mike Samlin. He answered the eloquent lift of her brows with an exaggerated shrug. A small smile curved her lips as she carried the whistle to her mouth again and blew hard. This time, she took off with the pack, her dark hair bouncing off her shoulders as she raced the girls for the racks that held the basketballs.

He watched as she ripped a ball from the grasp of a girl eight inches shorter and dribbled away. Her throaty laugh rose like smoke. Her erstwhile opponent went after her, bony arms flailing as the NCAA coach of the year squared up and stepped into her defender, unwilling to give even an inch when it came to the only thing that mattered—taking the shot.

He drank her in, memorizing the line of her. Eyes fixed on the rim and toes pointed at the goal, her body curved into a graceful bow, her strength and power breathtaking to behold. She was his. And she loved him too.

“Yeah, she does.”

Mike heaved a sigh heavy enough to crush a lesser person. Danny twitched when the man’s hand landed heavy on his shoulder, but Mike’s voice was quiet and calm when he spoke. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” And he was. He knew with every fiber of his being that she loved him back, even if they hadn’t said the words yet.

Mike sighed. “I can’t stand the thought of watching everything you’ve worked for blown sky-high because of some woman.”

Danny turned to look at his friend. “Not some woman. The woman,” he corrected gruffly. “Before I met Kate, the only thing I had to look forward to when I left the office at night was hours of game film. The only goal I had was getting back, getting better, and getting my hands on that trophy.”

Mike held his gaze. “And now?”

The smile started, and there was no way he could stop it. Pure joy. Powered by love. Of the game, and of the right woman. “Now I want all that and her.”

The AD rapped his wedding ring against the plastic armrest and stood. “Well, there goes Millie’s publicity plan.”

Squinting up at the other man, Danny shrugged. “Oh, I bet Kate and I can keep fighting for the cameras.”

“Hard to buy two people going at each other if you know they’re getting it on at night.” Mike shoved his hands into his pockets and tossed down another put-upon sigh. “Bobby Riggs and Billie Jean King never fell in love.”

Danny barked a laugh. “There were reasons for that.”

“I suppose.” As if the man thought he still had any room to maneuver, Mike cast a sidelong glance at Danny. “Keep it off campus.”

“There goes my plan to bend her over the trophy case.”

His words dripped with sarcasm. As it was, he’d been actively plotting payback for the locker room tryst for weeks, but the right opportunity never arose. He wouldn’t cross it off the list, no matter what Mike wanted.

“I guess I’ll have to make do with away games,” Danny said.

“Okay, I’ve said what I needed to say.” Mike patted his shoulder again but this time gave it a friendly squeeze. “I’ll talk to you later.”

He started to slide from the row, but Danny caught his arm. “I’m sorry about what I said. It was a cheap shot. You know I love Diane, right?”

“I do too. No matter how rough things were at the start.”

Danny didn’t even try to fight the flush that crept up his neck. He deserved every scorching bit of it. “I get you. And I am sorry. I shouldn’t have lashed out like that.”

The AD caught the apology with the same grace he used to show only when snatching footballs out of thin air. “Now you know how I know you’re not bullshitting about Kate.”

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