Page 93 of Only in Your Dreams

You must.

There’s just no way the damn cookies would finish cooking at this precise, inopportune moment. And then I follow Mel’s gaze to find Noah hovering awkwardly at the entrance to the kitchen. He’s still dressed in his post-game tracksuit and doesn’t look worse for wear. But there’s added depth to the dejected look he wears now, and I know instantly that something’s gone wrong at home. That his overnight bag will be sitting by the door.

“Sorry, Coach,” he says, backing away as Mel disentangles herself from me. “I’m just gonna…”

“Noah,” I say sharply as he turns the corner into the hall. “Get your ass back in here.”

He trudges back in and Melody rushes to the beeping oven, pulling out a tray of what looks like chocolate chip cookies. Noah’s gaze snags on her back, and I assume he’s analyzing the jersey with my name on it.

Hopefully, he takes a moment to clue me in once he figures out what it means.

“Bet you regret giving me that key now, huh, Coach?”

“My only regret is that you still don’t get that you’re supposed to call me Zac while you’re staying in this house.”

He ignores the comment. Noah wiggles his eyebrows and glances pointedly at Melody, who’s facing away from us as she carefully pries her cookies off a baking sheet.

“Way to go,” he mouths silently.

“Shut up,” I mouth back.

If it were anyone else, it would be weird, if not completely inappropriate, to tell a student to shut up. But Noah’s stayed here more times than I can count since he joined the team three years ago. And with only an eight-year age difference between us, within the walls of his house, he’s more like the kid brother I never had.

Rounding the island, I fill a glass with water and slide it across the counter to him.

“You good?” I mouth now.

Noah’s still standing there, so clearly he doesn’t have an issue with Mel knowing he’s here to stay the night. But I’m not going to be the one to make him talk about his home life in front of someone new to him.

With a shrug, he says out loud, “Same old shit. He tried to make it to the game tonight, but he was so drunk I found him passed out in the cab of his truck, still in the driveway. He blew up on me when he realized he slept through the game. Like I was supposed to sit on my hands and refuse to throw until he got his ass to the stadium.”

Melody turns back with a plate of cookies, and for her benefit he adds: “My dad’s an alcoholic. Coach—Zac lets me hang around here when he kicks me out.”

“I’m very sorry that’s something you deal with,” she says softly. “If you’d like some time to talk alone, I can head home. Give you some space.”

Noah shakes his head at the suggestion. “Nah, it’s all good. Last thing I want to do after leaving there is rehash it here. Can I have a cookie?” He reached for one when she slides the plate over, gaze bouncing from me to Melody. “What I’m really interested in knowing is when the no sleepovers rule stopped being in effect.”

“No sleepovers?” Melody asks.

He nods in my direction. “He’s a lot stricter than I’m used to at home. No sleepovers with girls while I stay over. And if I get here early enough on a weeknight, I have to study for at least a couple hours.”

My face is flaming hot. From the way her hair is framing hers, I have no idea what Melody’s thinking.

The kid’s doing a damn good job of painting me as the fucking fun police. But I know how easy it can be to get lost in the adoration from your teammates, peers, and the people around town when you’re in his position with the Huskies.

I’m dead set on getting this kid drafted to the NFL this year, which means he likely wouldn’t come back for his senior year of college. Players at his level rarely do. But that doesn’t mean I won’t do whatever I can to make sure he keeps his head on straight while he’s here.

Noah appraises Melody, clearly amused by what he sees. “I, on the other hand, am clearly as good a wingman as it gets. You two are free to have all the sleepovers you want under my watch.”

Melody fumbles two attempts at tucking her hair behind her ear. When she glances at me from the corner of her eye, her cheeks flush as hard as mine.

Noah winks at me. “You’re welcome, Coach.”

* * *

“Every time I think you can’t get any sweeter, you go proving me wrong. You and Noah are adorable together.”

Melody caps the lip balm on the nightstand, flicks off the light, and crawls under the bed covers. I shift around to pull off my shirt and put out an arm, inviting her in. Even though we’ve still got her tank top between us, a few weeks’ worth of sleepovers have done nothing to dull the euphoria of feeling her skin so close to mine.

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