“I’ve been falling since the park bench,” I said. “Maybe before that. Since the welcome dinner when you stood in a corner and talked to me. Since you handed me a sketch of Beau and looked at me like I was worth seeing. It’s fate or it’s just us, but it’s real and I need it more than anything.”
I’d been tracking her since the second I sat in the corner at the welcome dinner. I hadn’t been hiding. One look from a human woman had completely leveled me.
Her hands uncurled on the desk.
“I’m done pretending this is casual,” I said. “I don’t want stolen moments that we have to hide. I don’t want to keep acting like you’re the coach’s daughter and I’m just another player on the roster.”
“Tolrek—”
“You see me.” The words came out rough. “Not the version the organization wanted or the one my last team decided was expendable. You see who I truly am, and you showed me evidence of it. You gave me myself back.”
A sound escaped her throat, something between a gasp and a sob.
“So I need to know.” I leaned closer, bracketing her in. “What did you come to my door to say last night?”
She looked up at me with eyes that were too bright. “I was going to tell you that I’m falling in love with you. That I can’t stop thinking about you. It’s making me forget how to do my job properly. I watch tape and all I’m seeing is you.”
“Then why didn’t you knock?”
“Because I’m scared that if we do this, it’s going to blow up everything. My job, your career, and my relationship with my dad. I’m afraid that we’re not going to survive it.”
I stroked my fingertips along her jaw, her pulse pounding against my fingers.
“I’m scared too,” I said. “But I’m more scared of losing you because we were too afraid to try.”
She leaned into my touch, her eyes closing. When they opened again, I could tell she’d made a decision.
“We can’t do this inside the arena,” she said.
“I agree.”
“Someone could walk in. My dad could?—”
“I agree.”
“Then why?—”
I kissed her.
Her sharp intake of breath was the only warning before she kissed me back, her hands finding my shoulders and pulling me closer. The angle was awkward with her still seated and me leaning down, but I didn’t care.
Still kissing her, I cleared her desk with one arm and lifted her onto it, guiding her backward until she lay across the smooth surface.
“Tell me to stop,” I growled against her throat.
“No.”
Braced over her, I slid my hand up her side, feeling the shape of her through the thin fabric of her blouse. She arched into my touch, a small sound escaping that went straight to my cock.
“We shouldn’t do this here,” she said, even as her thighs squeezed around my hips.
“You’re right.”
“Someone could?—”
I kissed her again. Her hands tangled in my hair. Slid across my nape.
I stroked my hand lower, finding the hem of her skirt. Slipping beneath. Moving up between her thighs. She lifted her hips and wrenched up her skirt, exposing the skimpiest panties I’d seen in my life.
