Page 48 of Hotshot

A tingle swept up Ella’s spine. She held her breath. Then held it some more.

“Let me start again. It all started with my cousin turning up.” Sloane shifted on the sofa, then ran a hand through her hair. “When I learned about my great-grandmother pretending to be a man. But she took a chance, went after what she wanted, which was playing soccer. In the process, she found love.

“I’m living my story, but over the past couple of years, I forgot that. I’ve been coasting. But moving here has woken me up. I’ve found a new lease of life playing for Salchester, and I hope to get back to that soon. I wasn’t looking for anything else but a new start professionally, but when you went on your date the other day, it brought up some uncomfortable truths. I didn’t like it. My ankle started to hurt more. I seized up. I had to ask myself why. You know what I came up with?”

Ella’s skin flared hot, as if she was a radiator that had just been turned on after a very long summer. She shook her head. She didn’t trust herself to speak.

“It’s because I like you, Ella.”

The words floated into her ears. Ella turned and sat forward. When their knees touched, she had to stop herself from shaking. However, she wanted to be very clear what was happening here. That nothing was lost in translation. Yes, Sloane spoke English, but American English.

“You like me? As a friend?” She raised her gaze to Sloane’s sapphire-blue gaze. “Or youlike likeme?” Had she really said that? Youlike likeme? What was she, ten years old?

She didn’t have to wait long for Sloane’s answer. “I like you as a friend.”

Ella’s heart sank to the bottom of her life.

At least she hadn’t made a fool of herself by trying to snog Sloane.

“But I alsolike likeyou, as you so quaintly put it. More than you could imagine. In a way that a friend really shouldn’t.”

Ella’s heart rallied the troops and started its advance. Sloane liked her. In the same way that she liked Sloane. In the way that she wanted to devour her mouth right this second. The lights had been red for so long, but now, suddenly, they were green. Ella should act before they went back to red. Or even amber. She’d been in the friend zone for long enough.

When their gazes met, everything inside her clashed, vivid and sharp.

Before she could talk herself out of it, Ella leaned towards Sloane. “In case there’s any confusion, I like you, too.”

Sloane’s mouth quirked up at her words.

Then before hesitation could stamp itself onto the moment, Ella covered Sloane’s mouth with her own.

Euphoria streaked through her. Bolts of sensation zigzagged to her chest. Her heart roared, her palms tingled, her brain melted.

She’d imagined kissing Sloane ever since they met in the car park on their first day. Actually, she’d imagined kissing her way before she met her, but it had never been a possibility. Now it was. The reality did not disappoint. Sloane’s warm lips moulded around her own with ease. Her kisses were slow and light at first, as if testing whether Ella was completely sure this was what she wanted.

She didn’t need to worry: Ella was totally sure. Cast-iron sure. Six-foot deep sure.

Moments waltzed by. Sloane rained down a procession of teasing, slow, sensual kisses. They pirouetted and slow-danced on Ella’s lips, making her fight for breath.

If Ella wasn’t sitting, she might have keeled over, like a tree felled at the root.

Never moving her lips, Sloane slid a hand around Ella’s waist and pulled her closer. Had she been thinking about this, too? Ella would love to ask, but there was no way she was breaking this moment. But she wanted to contribute, too. Not just sit here, filling up with slow, glittery joy.

She lifted the fingertips of her right hand and slid them over Sloane’s delicate cheekbones just as she’d done earlier. Both their lips slipped left, then right, before locking in place.

Warmth rolled through Ella like the best kind of summer day. It was December, but with Sloane’s lips on her, Ella had hot sand between her toes, infinite blue skies ahead, the crackle of possibility in her heart. Sloane Patterson’s lips made her travel to places she’d never been before.

That was before wet heat slid along her bottom lip. Sloane’s tongue. She was about to slide it into Ella’s mouth.

Do not faint.

Do not faint.

Do not faint.

Sloane’s tongue darted in, then out, like the best secret agent.

Ella tried and failed not to gasp.

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