Page 98 of Hometown Halftime

As soon as my hips rock involuntarily, I know I need to stop. So, I begin to break away, peppering his lips with soft, short kisses. When I look at him, confusion fills his eyes.

“Not tonight, Riley,” I say as I lick my bottom lip.

“So my first lesson is patience?” he asks.

“Maybe. But also, I want this to happen sort of naturally. Not right after a confession or an agreement.”

He kisses my cheek. “Okay.”

He leans back on the couch as his eyes look down to follow his hands running up and down my thighs. Then I watch his chest rise and fall on a deep breath. He gently slaps my thigh before looking up at me.

“Go to bed, Kinsey.”

I place one last kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Night, Rookie.”

Chapter forty

Kinsey

My eyes open to a room full of sunlight. Reaching for my phone, I check the time and it’s after ten. I love sleeping in on Sundays. It’s my one full day off every week now that the rugby season has kicked off, and catching up on sleep is essential.

I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling, replaying last night in my mind against my will. The excitement of the game rolls through first, and then Riley’s admission takes center stage. And of course, I remember the way his hands felt on my body while I straddled him on the couch. And then my words ring out.

Yes, Weston, I’ll deflower you.

A mortified groan leaves me before I drag both hands over my face.

What the hell is happening to my life?

Three weeks ago, I was worried about rugby drills and paying bills on time. Now I’m entering some kind of emotionally dangerous sex arrangement with my younger assistant coach while living in his duplex and actively fantasizing about his hands.

I shove the comforter aside and climb out of bed wearing my favorite pink sleep shorts and an oversized T-shirt. The upstairs hallway is empty when I step out of the bedroom. Riley’s door stands open across the hall, bed already made.

I head downstairs still trying to untangle my own thoughts when I stop short at the kitchen island.

There’s a coffee cup waiting beside a brown paper bag from Cedar Perk. Next to it sits a tiny stuffed otter propped carefully against the cup.

“Oh, my God.”

I just stand there staring at the little plush animal while something warm spreads through my chest. Because this is ridiculous. Ridiculous and sweet and somehow so entirely Riley that I genuinely don’t know what to do with myself.

There’s a sticky note tucked beneath the otter’s butt. I pick it up slowly.

I actually press my lips together, trying not to smile, but it doesn’t work.

“Boyfriend behavior,” I mutter to myself while setting the note back down carefully beside the coffee. “Extremely concerning.”

The worst part is he probably doesn’t even realize how boyfriend-coded all of this is. Riley just naturally moves through the world, taking care of people as if it were instinct.

I grab the coffee first, taking a long sip while my eyes drift back toward the note again. Then, toward the little otter. Then back to the note.

“Oh, this is bad,” I whisper.

Because I like this a little too much.

With coffee in one hand and Levi’s banana bread from Cedar Perk in the other, I glance toward the small Alexa speaker sitting near the living room television.