Sell cards—like a playing card but selling yourself. Make it cute.
Pre-arrange dates so that they’re listed.
Set rules—no one three times their age. That’s creepy.
Sign up sheet out by end of next week.
To take place at the fall festival.
I stare, my stomach twisting. How can he have gotten to this idea first too? I just thought about it! How is this man in my head?
“You can’t do that,” I practically shout, pointing at it. “That’s my idea!”
“That’s another of my players’ ideas,” Hansley says. “And before you accuse me of just running with this, yes, I have Dean Stommer’s permission to have it at the festival and yes, I’ve acquired all the approval from admin to hold the event. I also sent an email about this to all the coaches, offering to open it up to your teams as well. Any money that your players bring in is for your team to do with how you wish.”
I’m shaking. This can’t be happening. How did he come up with all the same things? I spin around to face him. He’s leaning against the front of his desk now, his hands on the edges as he watches me. Confused. Concerned. His pretty eyes watching me intently.
His shirt stretches tightly over his big chest, his thick arms. I can see his nipples through the thin material. I think I can even see his abs. His hair is effortlessly styled. There’s an earring in his left ear, a shadow of hair over his upper lip.
But his eyes. I can’t stop looking at his eyes.
And the way he’s looking at me. It’s fucking cute. It’s hot. I don’t understand it. Then his eyes drop. At first, I’m not sure where he’s looking but when I purse my lips, his quirk in a small smile.
He’s looking at my mouth…
Before I know what I’m doing, I’m in front of him and pressing my lips to his. He’s completely still. If I dared to open my eyes, I’m sure his would be wide. But I grip his chin and kiss him. For just a second.
Then I get my wits and pull back, horrified at myself.
I don’t have any time to think of something to say before his hands are on me and he pulls me to him, our mouths crashing together again. This time, I’m startled, so my mouth is open and Hansley Bardot wastes no time taking control of my mouth.
The kiss burns through me, channeling heat into every frozen place within me. And there are a lot. I sink into him and hecradles my body in big, strong arms. Holding me tightly to him. Really tight.
He tastes so good. So, so very good. He’s a good kisser.
A door closing somewhere down the hall makes me wrench myself free. We stare at each other for several heat-filled seconds before I turn and run out the door.
CHAPTER 6
HANSLEY
