Page 33 of Hometown Halftime

That’s it, I’m just horny. I just need to get it out of my system. I’m only feeling this way because yes, he’s handsome as hell, but we also spend a lot of time together. These thoughts are just a result of proximity.

I’m against the railing that surrounds the patio when I see someone walking toward me from my periphery.

“Coach?” Riley says softly.

And just like that—one word from one familiar voice—and my reasoning goes ‘poof.’

Chapter fifteen

Riley

The door closes behind me, cutting off the noise from inside.

Kinsey’s leaning against the railing, arms folded, eyes fixed on something in the distance—but the tension in her shoulders gives her away.

“Coach?” I say softly, unsure if I’ll spook her.

She turns her head, and the streetlight catches along the edge of her jaw, softening the line of her profile. Her expression flickers between surprise and warmth.

“Weston,” she says, voice clipped. “You’re…out here.”

“So are you.” I laugh, stepping closer. “Everything okay?”

She nods. “Fine. I just needed air.”

I move to lean against the railing a couple of feet away, giving her space. For a moment, neither of us speaks. It’s not uncomfortable, but it’s charged.

She turns to face me, and her eyes drop to my mouth before they snap back up to mine.

“I shouldn’t be out here with you,” she says shakily.

“Why not?”

“Because...” She bites her lip, annoyed. “Because we work together.”

I laugh. “Coworkers can talk.”

“Yeah, but we danced. And our crotches touched and you’re—” Her shoulder hunch as she slaps her hands to her face. “Oh my God, why did I say the word crotch. I’m sorry for my word vomit.”

I fight a smirk. “I like it when you ramble.”

“I hate my inability to filter my words.” She throws her hands in the air. “Sorry about being a weirdo, but I’m older and you’re…”

“Younger?” I supply.

She shoots me a look. “I wasn’t going to say it that way.”

“But you were thinking about it.”

I shift a couple of inches closer, glancing at her, then back out to the street. The words are sitting on the tip of my tongue. The curiosity that’s been building until it led me to follow her out here, hoping to steal a few more moments with her. Then I decide to say the words that could cause a massive mess between us.

“But I’m curious, Kinsey.” I stand to my full height, turned to face her. “Do you feel this…thing between the two of us? Or is it just me?”

The tension threads between us, tightening and stretching until even the quiet feels loud. Then she steps back.

“This is a bad idea,” she says.

“Which part?” I ask.