Page 124 of Coach
And good Lord—hewashuge.
The crowd went wild, whistles and shouts echoing off the walls.
Matt gaped up at him. “Jesus. You’re what, six-four? Six-five?”
Shane gave a shy grin. “Six-four . . . and change.”
Matt looked to the audience. “And Mateo’s just sitting there all smug like, ‘Yeah, this is mine.’ I bet he gives it to ya good, doesn’t he? Big and thick, and throbbing and vainly like those bodybuilder arms.”
The girls in the gaggle lost their shit.
Even the married woman he’d picked on first screamed and clapped, her pink-clad hubby wiping tears from his eyes.
“If you can take it, damn, you take it. Respect,man. Respect,” Matt said. “I’m not gay, but dude makes me wish I was. I'd climb that tree like a cat on a mission.”
That’s when it happened.
A voice from the bachelorette table shrieked, “Take it off!”
Matt didn’t miss a beat. “You hear that, big guy? Your fans wanna see the goods!”
The other bachelorettes picked up the chant, and before I could think, the whole place was howling, “TAKE IT OFF! TAKE IT OFF! TAKE IT OFF!”
Matt stepped to the edge of the stage and leaned toward Shane. “Tell you what, dude—I’ll buy their table a round if you do it!”
The club exploded in cheers and chants.
I leaned toward Shane, half panicked. “You don’t have to—”
He gave me a calm look, one brow lifting ever so slightly.
Beside me, Mike muttered, “Oh, shit.”
And then—cool as you please—Shane popped the first button.
The crowd lost their minds.
One of the bachelorettes screamed, “I want to do one!”
Thankfully, Matt waved her off. “You do you, boo. The big man’s mine.”
One after another, the buttons came undone until Shane shrugged off the shirt, waved it over his head like he was auditioning forMagic Mike, and let it fly onto the chair behind him. The production team even cued stripper music in time with his motion, making the whole thing that much funnier—and more terrifying.
Every inch of that chiseled chest and those carved arms was on full display.
Matt staggered, clutching his chest. “I am intimidated as fuck, y’all!” He turned back to the crowd. “That is aman. Like, if he hugs you, you either feel safe or you die. No in between!”
Laughter and cheers echoed again.
I covered my face, equal parts dying and swooning.
Because good God . . . this was my life now.
And I wasn’t sure if I wanted to run away—
—or jump him the second the lights dimmed.
Chapter 39
