I hadn’t missed them. He knew that. I’d just chosen not to respond. And now, the weight of everything I hadn’t said hung in the space between us, heavy and unresolved. But his touch, his proximity, it was all I could think about now.
“Are you going to respond?” His voice was low, teasing, and his brow arched in that way that made it impossible for me to look anywhere but at him.
“I hadn’t decided,” I admitted. “I think so.”
“I can wait.” He leaned away, his gaze drifting lazily toward the brilliant blue sky above us. But his presence still felt magnetic, pulling me in.
“Now?” I asked, my voice a little breathless.
“Is there a better time?” His words were easy, like everything about him was in perfect sync with the rhythm of the world around us.
“Anyone ever tell you how bossy you are, Valentine?” I couldn’t help but tease.
“All the fucking time.” His finger traced lazy circles on my back, the touch so light it sent jolts of heat through me. “Mostpeople think I’m so easy going that I’ll just go along with whatever they say. But sometimes, I just want to…”
“Want to what?” I asked, my breath hitching in my chest.
He paused, his finger stopping on my skin. “Go ahead, respond to the message.”
And with that, I did.
Hi.
A moment later, his phone dinged. “Oh, look. Someone’s texting me. Must be desperate for my attention.” His lips quirked into a half-smile, but there was something darker lurking beneath his words.
“Ass.”
He chuckled, but it faded quickly as he read the next message. “Really? You’re going to ‘hi’ me? What the fuck is that, Frankie?”
I shrugged, trying to fight the urge to roll my eyes. “Anything I want to say to you, I can just say. You’re here.”
“But I wasn’t.” His voice lowered, dark with frustration. “All morning, I wanted to see your words. Feel how much you wanted me too. And you left me on read. Fucking Christ, woman. Don’t you get it?”
I did. Or I was starting to.
He took my phone without warning, typed something quickly, and hit send. When he handed it back, I saw the message he’d sent, supposedly from me.
I can’t stop thinking about you either.
His lips brushed the side of my ear as he leaned closer. “Am I lying?”
I closed my eyes, my heart pounding in my chest. “No,” I whispered, clearing my throat. “But this is beyond complicated.”
“Why?” His voice was barely a murmur, almost like a plea.
Because my ex-fiancé was threatening my career if I didn’t marry him. Because Teddy played on the team I coached, and ifanyone found out about us, it would change everything. Because I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anyone, and that scared me more than anything.
“I don’t want it to be complicated,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “I just want to be a beautiful man who can’t stop thinking about kissing the most perfect woman.”
“I’m not perfect, Teddy.”
He shook his head with a sigh, his gaze unwavering as he stood, offering me his hand. “Come on. Let’s have some fun, even if that’s against the rules.”
I took his hand, letting him pull me to my feet. We stood close—too close, and not enough. His hand skimmed down my side, tugging at the waistband of my leggings with a look in his eyes that made my pulse race. “I fucking love you in these,” he murmured, his voice rough. “When I can see every curve of your?—”
I clamped a hand over his mouth, halting him in his tracks. “Fun, you say? What does this word mean?”
He nipped my hand gently until I reluctantly pulled it away, and then he led me toward the action. Shai was weaving the ball away from Sullivan and Sam, her eyes locked on the goal. Rowan waited for her between two outstretched palms they had designated as the net, his knees bent, hands poised. Shai passed the ball to Ryder, who lined up for the shot.
