Page 45 of False Start

ten

Addison,Ellie, Leo, and Noah fell asleep on their way back to Crossroads. Rylee stayed tucked against my side, her eyes wide open as I threaded my fingers through her soft brown hair, enjoying the quiet where I could replay the best moments from our afternoon at Rockabilly’s.

Yeah, that meant the heart-stopping ones too.

Like Priest on that floor.

God, the sight of him on skates, as if he spent more time on wheels than in shoes, sent a bolt of fire lancing through me that had every part of me capable of spine-tingling arousal standing to rapt attention.

And I had questions…so many questions.

Too bad we weren’t friends.

I could kick myself for tossing those words out there.

Actually, I could kick him for remembering them so well and tossing them between us like he’d just framed out a wall…with two-by-sixes instead of two-by-fours.

The boy wasn’t just building any wall. He was building one to withstand a hurricane.

Derby coach didn’t mean skater. It never had. But Priest was a skater through and through. He moved with sleek confidence but fueled with a deep-seated disquiet. Skates with red leather flames streaking along the sides that inspired so much adoration in Noah, told a secret story.

Only pieces remained out of reach…so many pieces.

He didn’t look like a cop.

He didn’t look like a disgraced coach.

He didn’t look like the bad idea he was…at least according to my team.

If being friends with him could ruin our chances with the WRDF, did I really want to be in the WRDF to begin with? Not that this was solely my decision to make. And if I stood my ground, and my team didn’t feel the same—nope, not going there. Even in my head…Not. Going. There.

Hot memories lingered on torturous replay of him skating ahead of Jackson, lean muscular legs in baggy blue jeans, his tank top caught on the edge of his thick black belt so whenever he raised his arms higher or swung them faster, he gave me a glimpse of hard abs. And that smile on his face with the way he bit his lip?

He was way more than a gooey cookie, more than an edible, way more than a snack, he was a whole damn meal.

A captain’s seafood platter piled high with fried haddock, whole-bellied clams, scallops, and shrimp with none of that pesky slaw on the side to take up space on the plate.

No lemon wedge either.

And fries? Fuck fries. He was a straight-out-of-the-sea-that-day, drool-worthy bag of yum fried in fresh oil.

And this bitch was hungry.

Joining him sent shivers through me, even now. His hand holding mine, the pads of his rough fingertips barely digging into my skin, making me want them on me harder and more insistent. The confidence in the way he guided me, spun me, trusting me to keep up, but confident just the same that if I couldn’t, he had this.

Was I really that woman? The one who wanted a guy who could take control and did so without asking first.

Yes, yes, apparently, I am.

The brooding man had all but disappeared except for a few glimpses here and there. Like when I caught him watching us from the shadows near the lockers, and later, when his eyes landed on that table in the corner.

His mother’s table.

Every revelation only made me all too aware of how much more there was to learn. A dangerous proposition with my team’s application to the WRDF, with Eve ready to snarl at anyone getting close to me, and with the kind of potential this had to annihilate my heart.

Cozying up to the controversial coach wouldn’t endear me to a good part of the town and these people were all I had. Sure, the sheriff liked him. So did Patti. But my team?

Lukewarm didn’t even loom on the radar.

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