“That seems unnecessary.”
I challenge her. “You showing up here on a Wednesday practice seems unnecessary, yet you did.”
“This is work.”
I lick my lips, looking at her mouth and realize she thinks I want her there because of the kiss and she’s fucking right but I can’t let her know that yet or she’ll run away like she’s running from something I haven’t had time to figure out.
“Coming to my game, helping me stay focused is work.”
“You want me there?”
“No.” I finger a tendril of her hair. “I need you there.”
She takes a glance at my finger on her hair. “Why?” she asks, her breath almost floating. There’s undercurrent sizzling between us and based on her reaction she feels it too.
“Because when you’re watching I have a better chance of remembering what to do.”
For a second she studies me. “I’ll consider it.”
“I’ll have Sutton call you and set it up. All expenses paid.”
“We’ll see.”
“You’ll be there.”
“Maybe.”
Studying her for a moment longer, an idea pops into my head. I need to see more of her smile so I offer her a challenge. “Kick off your heels.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re going to lighten things up. Relieve the stress from our jobs and have some fun.” I feel my dimples forming. “Follow me.”
I pick up a football left in the end zone and squeeze the leather in my hands. “I’ll throw it three times and if you catch all three times, you decide whether you come to my game but if you drop one, you have to come to coach me.”
“That’s not fair. I’ve never even played catch.”
I give her a look loaded with implication. “I figured as much.”
She juts her hip out. That beautiful curve covered by cream-colored pants. Finally, she agrees, “Okay, I’ll try to catch the ball if it reduces your anxiety. But I’m not agreeing to your terms.”
Electricity pricks at my skin, hiding a smile inside me. “I’ll take it. Go.” She runs ten yards and I throw it easy and she catches it.
She looks at the ball in her hands and yells, “I did it. I did it!”
“Don’t get cocky, Doc.”
Annika skips back to me, her dark brown hair shining against the sun. “Fistbump.” I stick out my fist and she taps it.
Maybe I had her all wrong. She has a fun side.
“Runand turn when you get to the thirty-yard-line. We’ll see if you can catch this one. Go.”
She’s fast and seems as competitive as me. I wait not knowing which way she’s going to turn and when she does I let the ball sail. Her feet move to the left and she gets under it and waits. It lands in her hands.
Jesus, I’m going to lose this bet, even if she didn’t agree to it.
She dances like she just won the championship. I wish I had my phone so I could film this and blackmail her for another kiss.
