Page 20 of Coach
His hand shifted backward, sliding into my hair, fingers gently massaging my scalp.
I was pretty sure a little whimper escaped me, but I hoped the sounds of the party that was still going on (clearly, someone had a battery-powered speaker ready to go) drowned it out.
“Yeah,” I said, letting my eyes drift closed, trying to focus away from the darkness and into the sensations.
There were times in my life when good things happened in the dark. Late-night confessions with friends. Making love with a new partner.
It wasn’t always scary.
It didn’t have to be right this moment.
The more I drifted into the sensation, the more I seemed to, you know, lean a little toward him. Until I found my face turned into his neck, my chest pressed to his.
Coach was unbothered.
In fact, his other arm glided across my hips, holding me more tightly to him.
The scent of him surrounded me. I would be smelling like him for hours. I had the absurd urge to never shower again just to hold onto it.
I couldn’t say exactly how long we stood like that. But the tingle from his fingers had steadily worked its way from my scalp down my spine, then spreading through my chest, stomach, lower.
Interest thrummed through my nerves, sang in my veins.
“Want to talk about it?” he asked.
“Not really.”
“Good. I specialize in not talking.”
“How long do you think we’re going to be out of power?”
“Good question. I figure if it hasn’t flicked back on yet, we’re out for a few hours.”
“So we’re going to be stuck in here for hours?”
“We’re stuck between floors. So yeah.”
“Shit.”
“I’ll keep you calm,” he assured me.
I had no doubt that was true.
“I’m worried about Trix. With no air.”
“It’s getting pretty cool at night now. I’m sure she’ll be alright. But if it goes on too long, I can have one of the girls go over and check on her. Take her back to one of their houses if necessary.”
“You don’t think the whole town is out?”
“They have generators because of the kids.”
“Oh. Okay. That makes me feel a little better.”
Feeling weird about still snuggling into him when I wasn’t actively having a panic attack, I slowly forced myself to move away. Which was much harder than it should have been.
“So, do power outages happen a lot around here?” I asked, stepping back until I was against the cool wall of the elevator again.
“A couple times a year. But it usually clicks back on pretty quickly. Someone must have hit a pole or something.”
