Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 122219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Plus, getting covered in his kisses when we got home each night didn’t hurt too much. Waking up to his good morning kisses wasn’t a bad touch, either.
My mind tried to keep me steady with my interactions with Nathan, but I’d be lying if I said my heart didn’t seem to be leading the plays more and more each day.
When we got to our final game in our last series before the playoffs and won, I knew my heart would fully take over for the remainder of the season. Nathan Pierce helped get us to the playoffs. He’d helped scouts see more and more of our players. He made a difference to Honey Creek Hornets, and he’d made a difference to me.
My hardened heart somewhat began to soften around him.
That both thrilled me and terrified me all at once.
Yet there was still a sliver of doubt within my system as I thought about what others were saying. Maybe our winning season had nothing to do with me at all. Maybe it was Nathan who improved the game, not me. That did a number on my ego, but my heart?
My heart just wanted to keep beating for him and his kisses.
“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh. I can’t believe we made the playoffs!” I shouted, my heart pounding as Nathan headed to his kitchen to grab a bottle of champagne. My body still buzzed with excitement as I paced his living room, clapping my hands together. I’d never felt prouder than I did that evening, seeing my boys celebrate the victory.
“It was the most intense game I’ve ever been a part of,” Nathan said as he walked into the living room with two glasses of champagne.
He held one out toward me. I downed it instantly. He laughed and handed me another glass. I downed that, too.
“I should’ve just opened two bottles, and we should’ve drunk straight from those,” he jested.
I cocked an eyebrow at him. “Well…”
Within minutes, we sat on his living room floor, each of us chugging champagne straight from the bottles, laughing about how wild it was that the game went in our favor.
“I’ve never seen those boys put their all into something the way they did that. I almost threw up watching it happen. And for Cam to get the winning hit! A grand freaking slam at that! Gosh! That kid deserved it. He’s one of the best players out there,” I expressed. “I know you helped get him to that spot, too. I can’t thank you enough for building his confidence, Nathan.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Was that a compliment?”
“Don’t get used to them,” I said, playfully shoving his shoulder. “I still hate you.”
He shoved me back. “With hate like this, who needs love?”
I shoved him back. “Hate is better than love anyway. But still, maybe Ray was right. Maybe you should’ve been head coach.”
He shoved me back. “Bullshit. That team listens to you. Your tough love drives them. You were made for that position. I’m just happy to help.”
I shoved him again. “Yeah, I appreciate the assistance even though I hate you.”
As I began to pull my arm back, he gently wrapped his arm around my wrist. His eyes were gentle and packed with care as he looked at me. His stare fell to my lips before he rose back to my eyes. “How much do you hate me, Coach?”
My heart began beating faster as I placed the champagne bottle in my other hand down on the floor. Every butterfly that fluttered within my stomach from his touch began to intensify as he held his intense stare with mine.
Butterflies, butterflies, butterflies…
“A lot,” I lied.
He pulled me closer to him. “A lot, a lot or a little, a lot?”
I bit my bottom lip. “Sometimes a lot a lot, sometimes a little a lot.”
He pulled me closer.
So close that I was nearly sitting on his lap. So close that if I inched forward just a little, I’d be close enough to rest my hands against his chest. To feel his heartbeat against my fingertips.
“Nathan…”
“I read an article about how bonding exercises were important for coaches heading into playoff games.”
A nervous laugh escaped my lips. “Is that so?”
He lifted me onto his lap and combed a piece of my hair behind my ear. I closed my eyes as heat raced through my whole system. He rested his forehead against mine, and I could feel his hot breaths against my lips as he whispered, “Yes. That’s so.”
“What kind of bonding exercises did they mention?”
“They didn’t really give details,” he explained, brushing his lips against mine ever-so-slightly. “So I figured we could make them up as we go.”
My hands pressed against his chest as my heartbeat intensified. “That sounds dangerous.”
“I like danger.”
“That’s funny. I tend to run from it.”
“Don’t run from this, Coach.”