And maybe an orgasm.
“I’m not sure that it’s my place,” I begin.
“Please, Kylie. I need you to be a team player right now.”
“I understand, but this is seriously inappropriate, Holly, and I?—”
“Their donation pays for library and counselor hours,” she snaps. “Do you seriously want those to be reduced for your students?”
Because the district only funds a limited amount of those hours per school.
I rub at the throb in my temple.
Then nod.
“I’ll talk to them.”
“Good. I’ll expect a positive update in the next couple of days.”
Then, without a thank you or another glance, she spins on her heel and takes off back for the school.
Leaving me with an unenviable task I don’t want to undertake.
And the distinct notion that this isn’t going to end well.
Thirty
Colt
“You going to tell me about it?” I ask late that night, Kylie’s slender body pressed close to mine, my good arm curled around her shoulders.
And it’s not lost on me that I’ve gone from not being able to touch her—this woman I’ve wanted for so long—to having her in my bed, cuddled close.
“About what?”
I kiss the top of her head, draw her even closer to my side. “About the look on your face when you came home today.”
It hadn’t been the right time to talk, not then, not with the guys deciding they’d keep me company as Doc had “tortured” me.
Okay, so less torture and more exam and making sure the doctors in Utah had done right by me.
I’ll have to wait until later in the week and everything stabilizes before I start the exercises.
Annoying that it won’t be the stitches or concussion keeping me out of the game.
But the fucking shoulder because I fell wrong.
And have now earned the nickname Klutz because it sounds so close to Colt.
Which it doesn’t, of course, but Knox is an asshole and the other guys thought it was hilarious, so there’s no use fighting it.
That shit is going to stick, and it’ll just be worse if I make a big deal about it.
“It’s nothing,” she says, the beautiful liar.
“Tell me,” I order.
She presses her hand onto my chest, lifting up so she can scowl at me. “Orders…Klutz?”
