Page 279 of Coach
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
Shane
“Ithink Matt would’ve taken you home,” Mateo said the moment my car door shut.
"Jealous much?" I shrugged with a sloppy, whisky-induced grin. “Maybe I would’ve let him.”
Something flashed in Mateo’s eyes that made me giggle.
His eyes widened. “Did you just . . . giggle?”
I doubled over in my car seat, unable to control the waves of hilarity racking my body. It had been a long time since I’d gotten this drunk. Some get sleepy; others dance on tables. Give me tequila or whiskey or any other liquor, and I morph into a ball of uncontrollable glee. I had no idea why. It had always been that way.
Mateo’s laughter matched mine as he struggled to turn and face me with the steering wheel blocking his way. When I came up for air, I saw tears streaming down his face.
“My big, burly, Walker Texas Ranger man is a closet giggler. Who knew?”
That wasn’t funny. It wasn’t a joke. There was no reason for me to laugh so hard my side hurt and I felt like I might pee all over Mateo’s car, but . . .
“Oh . . . my . . . God. I need to record this,” Mateo said, snatching up his phone and fumbling with the screen. “Mike and Sisi will never believe me.”
“Don’t you dare!” I rumbled, a little too loudly and sounding like an abuser about to take a swing.
That made me giggle again.
I don’t know why.
Mateo tossed down his phone, stared a moment longer, a goofy grin making his beautiful face even more stunning than it already was. Then his hands flew across the front seat, gripped my head, and spun me toward him. Next thing I knew, our lips were locked, tongues dancing, and everything vanished but my feelings for that amazing Italian.
