And from the look in her eyes, I knew she wanted me too.
Her lips formed a protest, but I beat her to it. “Last chance, Coach. If you want me to stop, you’re going to have to say so.”
I started counting in my head then out loud, the words coming out rough, like I was trying to hold myself together. With each number, I closed the distance between us. “Three,” I rasped, my nose brushing against the delicate skin under her ear. She smelled like honey, with a hint of some fruit I couldn’t place, my mind too fogged to name it.
“Two.” My lips hovered just above hers, almost touching but not quite—teasing, building the tension.
“One.” The first press of my lips was soft, tentative, a promise without words.
But when I pulled away, she made a sound deep in her throat—a low protest that shot through me, igniting something primal. I couldn’t resist the second time. Our lips met again, this time urgent, desperate, and I didn’t pull back. I bit—first her bottom lip, then her top—forcing her mouth open, my tongue slipping inside, tasting her breath, the warmth of her mouth, the way she responded to me.
And then, she fucking whimpered.
“Make that sound again,” I growled against her lips, the words demanding. “Make me feel like you want this.”
Her hands, hesitant at first, slowly grew more confident, gliding up my chest in a touch so light it was like a spark, but it lit something inside me. I pulled her closer, my arm wrapping around her back, lifting her into my lap, so one of her knees settled on each side of mine. And then, she said it—softly but with a fire behind it, her voice raw with need.
“Fucking kiss me, Teddy. I don’t break easily.”
If what we’d done before was barely a kiss, this was something else entirely. I sucked her lip into my mouth, pulling it between my teeth before diving deeper, tasting every inch ofher. She was intoxicating—peppermint, coffee, and something sweeter, something I couldn’t resist. Her hips rolled against mine, and I cursed, the sensation of her grinding down onto me making my whole body hum with want. I slipped a hand up, cupping her breast, the soft weight of it perfect in my palm.
Absolutely fucking perfect.
There were too many layers between us. I needed to feel her skin, needed to close the distance and claim her. My fingers slipped under the hem of her shirt, trailing softly up her spine, urging her body to press closer to mine. My other hand slid into the back of her elastic waistband, and in that moment, her entire body stilled. Her lips stopped their teasing, her hips ceased their rhythmic movement.
“This is wrong, Teddy,” she murmured, her voice a soft warning.
“Then, why the hell does it feel so damn right?” I rasped, my voice thick with desire.
Guardian crashed into something, jolting us both out of the moment.
She met my gaze as she leaned back, and I could see the decision in her eyes. Slowly, almost painfully, she stood from my lap, smoothing her shirt down over her body, the movement a clear sign of retreat.
“Are you going to leave?” The question hung in the air, and I knew she wanted to. I could feel it, but I didn’t know how to let her go. I didn’t even try to hide how hard I was, how desperate my body felt, but she didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe she just didn’t care.
Her shoulders slumped, the weight of her decision heavy in the air. “I can’t. I promised your sister.”
I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breath. A moment ago, she had felt so pliable in my hands, soft, willing. Now, she was like stone, unyielding, untouchable.
“I’m just going to…” She didn’t finish the sentence, but I knew what she meant. She disappeared through the kitchen door, leaving me in the silence, more confused and tangled up than I’d ever been.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
FRANKIE
Welcome to what might have been the most uncomfortably memorable night of my life. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration. It wasn't worse than all those nights after my parents' accident, when I'd linger at my grandmother's house, listening to my uncles squabble over who wouldn't take me in. Grandma, frail as she was, kicked them out and insisted I stay with her, fending for myself.
Then, there was the night Travis proposed and I hesitated before reluctantly saying yes under relentless pressure. I've had countless awkward nights that taught me one thing: I could only rely on myself. I had to be tough, in control, or risk losing everything.
For once, Teddy actually listened. He spent most of the night on the couch, engrossed in some kind of book, sparing me his usual up-and-down routine. I quietly helped him with his knee brace, made sure he ate and drank enough, and tried hard not to dwell on that fleeting moment.
That moment when I almost let myself have what I truly desired. Because I couldn't deny it to myself anymore. I wanted him. Teddy Valentine, the thorn in my coaching career's side. The hockey player who dazzled with his on-ice dance routines,perpetually smiling while concealing his pain from everyone, including his coaches.
Yeah, that guy.
Something inside me felt irreparably broken.
I attempted to distract myself with a book on my phone, playing with Guardian, taking too many walks, and indulging in Rowan's incredible cooking. Yet, none of it erased the image of Teddy in his sunny California boy boxers, his bronzed skin and blond hair shielding those piercing blue eyes. Before him, I'd have described myself as drawn to the tall, dark, and handsome type. Now, I wasn't so sure who or what I was anymore.
