Page 100 of Third and Ten

*like react*

So, I’ve been thinking… Football season is almost over. Maybe we could go out together in town…or even try a little PDA since we won’t need to worry about hiding out anymore.

TENLEY

We should wait until after the custody hearing, don’t you think? Besides, I don’t mind keeping you all to myself. Sneaking around can be kind of hot, right?

JD

NOTED *pencil emoji* *spiral notebook emoji*

TENLEY

Good night, Coach. *smirking face emoji*

JD

Good night, Dorothy. *face blowing a kiss emoji*

Although I’m disappointed by her hesitance to go public with our relationship and growing more desperate by the minute to tell her that I’m in love with her, I don’t think she’s not there yet.

Unless Blake was onto something before, and she needs to hear me say those three little words first, before she gives herself permission to really fall for me.

I guess there’s only one way to find out.

CHAPTER 30

TENLEY

Camellia High: 2, Buffets: 0

The hotel lobby is packed the next morning. That poor breakfast spread doesn’t stand a chance against our football team.

Normally, I’d skip the heavy breakfast, especially with a crowd this size, but the waffle-making station calls for an indulgence. I’m pouring batter into one of the irons when I hear JD’s voice rumbling over my shoulder.

“Good morning, Ms. Tenley.”

“Morning,” I reply, already cursing my body’s reaction, especially since I haven’t even seen him yet. He turns and leans back against the counter beside me with his hands in his pockets, positioning himself just a few inches closer than proper.

“Mind making another one of those for me?”

“Okay.” I scoop more batter and shut the other waffle iron.

“Slept well?”

“Mostly.” Though it’s not true because I tossed and turned all night, reliving our encounter. He nods and looks me up and down as if I’m another item on the buffet. I swallow hard, pretending to focus on making our breakfast.

“Hey, Coach, you’re looking a little dehydrated this morning. You know, they have plenty to drink if you’re feeling thirsty,” one of Ethan’s teammates calls as he passes us with his plate piled high, his friends laughing at JD’s expense.

I instinctively scoot over to put some space between us. JD, on the other hand, calmly extends a foot the size of a water ski and trips his offender, who in turn loses half his breakfast haul. His friends snicker even louder as bacon and biscuits tumble off his plate while he tries to regain his balance.

“Watch where you’re going, Damien. And clean that up,” JD commands gruffly, sufficiently reasserting his alpha status.

“Yes, sir,” the kid grumbles as he stumbles away.

“So, uh, have you talked to Ethan this morning?” he asks, turning back to me.

I shrug, trying not to smirk. I think I’m developing an appreciation for the way JD handles teenagers so smoothly. “Not yet. Why?” The first iron beeps, so I open it up.

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