Win Me Over Page 11

  “Tell me the truth. Do you regret agreeing to this?” she asked, and her question surprised him.

  He said the first words that slipped into his mind. “No. Not at all.”

  “I’m glad,” she said. Every time she spoke, her chin dug into his chest. He didn’t mind one bit.

  They continued to sway, their faces only a foot apart as he stared into her eyes. She had to know what he was thinking. Feeling. He wanted her to be feeling it, too, even though his brain was trying desperately to remind him that this was a bad idea. They had this competition to focus on and neither one of them needed the distraction.

  More than anything, he wasn’t ready to fall for someone. But right now, it was difficult to care about anything else. The only thing that made sense in this moment was how good she felt—soft and inviting—in his arms. He halted their movements and lifted a hand to her chin.

  For a moment she was still, but then slowly her mouth turned up at the corners and it felt like an invitation. He moved on pure instinct; dipping his head, he pressed his mouth lightly to hers.

  Her lips came together tentatively, firm against his. He pressed another soft kiss, then another, before lightly tugging at her bottom lip, urging her open. Just when he decided this was a mistake, her fingers trailed up into the short hairs on the back of his head and she sighed against his mouth. Her lips parted just the slightest bit and he ran his tongue against the seam.

  Her only movement was the pressure of her hand on his neck, pulling him down to her, his sign that she wanted this. Finally she responded with the lightest press of her lips to his. He didn’t go any further, just placed another kiss on the corner of her mouth, then the bow of her top lip.

  She leaned into his body, her hand going to his face and cupping his jaw. “This feels like a bad idea,” she whispered, her voice breathy and soft.

  “Do you want me to stop?” He turned his head and kissed the palm of her hand.

  She let out the smallest whimper of frustration and immediately pleasure flooded his body. He couldn’t help himself: instead of waiting for her answer he asked her with his touch; angling his lips over hers, he took her mouth fully. This time she kissed him back, insistent and demanding.

  Now she used both hands to pull him against her, their bodies as flush as humanly possible. He knew she would feel him hard against her stomach, and suddenly he didn’t care; he wanted her to know what she did to him. She drove him crazy, filled his dreams with thoughts of her, his days with longing.

  The tip of her tongue met his and he groaned before intensifying the kiss. It was manic and possessive, their tongues tangling with each other, and when he couldn’t get deep enough he wrapped both arms around her waist and lifted her feet from the ground. She held on around his neck, fitting against him so effortlessly it made him dizzy.

  He felt the pain radiate from his hip as he walked them toward his truck, but he suffered through it, drunk on the feel of this woman in his arms, unwilling to put her down or let her go.

  He kissed her long and hard, holding her body against his. Finally he pulled away, breathing deep before gently setting her toes onto the street behind his truck. Their faces stayed close, foreheads meeting. Her fingers made lazy circles on the back of his neck, like her touching him was the most natural thing in the world.

  “That was almost better than dancing,” she said, her voice all teasing and playfulness.

  She was constantly making him laugh, more than anyone else. And damn, she looked so hot doing it. He grinned. “Almost?”

  She continued to smile, her face lit by the streetlight, but he didn’t miss the subtle change, her lips slipping down, her eyes refusing to meet his. She was regretting what had just happened. His fear was confirmed when she whispered, “Bennett. I don’t know if we should do that again.”

  His body went rigid in her arms. That was not exactly what a man wanted to hear after he’d kissed a woman for the first time. He let go of her and backed away. “Okay. I’m sor—”

  She shut him up by grabbing a fistful of his shirt and pulling him close. “That’s not what I meant. Don’t apologize. I’ve wanted that to happen from the first moment I met you.”

  That helped his ego a little, but he still pulled away, unable to be this close to her anymore. If she was able to say that so easily, she meant it. It shouldn’t have happened. She didn’t want it to happen again.

  Callie ran her hand through her tousled hair. “Bennett, please don’t be upset. Just think … we’re going to be spending so much time together, adding sex to the equation…”

  “Shit. No. I’m not upset.” He was humiliated. And pissed. “It’s fine. You’re right; that was a bad idea.”

  He stuffed his hands into his pockets and pulled out his keys. He hit a small button and the sound of his doors unlocking startled Callie. She stepped away from the truck and into the grass.

  “I better go,” he said.

  “I don’t think we should part like this.”

  “Part like what? Nothing’s wrong. We’re good.” He was embarrassed as hell, but otherwise they were good.

  “Do you mean that?”

  The tone of her words suddenly irked him. She was fine, but she was worried about him. She might as well have patted his head and asked if he needed to talk to someone about his feelings. It fucking sucked. “What are you asking, Callie? We’re good, no big deal. When do we practice again?” His words came out a little too loud and agitated.

  She cleared her throat, obviously taken aback by his sudden outburst. But she was all cool and calm. “Why don’t I secure the school gym for us on Tuesdays and Thursdays after our teams practice? That way we can just get it out of the way before we go home.”

  So she wanted to meet on neutral ground, not at his place or even her place. Get it out of the way—nice. She was ready to treat this for what it was. A job.

  Obviously she wanted to make sure what just happened didn’t happen again. It was probably for the best, because he shouldn’t want a woman who didn’t want him back. Been there, done that.

  “Sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  And just like that she’d shut him down like it was no big deal. She was bold and honest, raw and intriguing. She was beautiful and funny. And from now on she was off-limits.

  * * *

  The following afternoon Bennett was early to practice. He passed the gym well before he knew Callie usually got there, intent on not seeing her until he had to later that day.

  He shoved the heavy door open and headed out to the football field. The sound of Reggie’s hollering traveled on the breeze and Bennett looked out to find his assistant out on the field with his seventh-hour strength and conditioning class, made up of mostly football and soccer players. Bennett watched as Reg called out another instruction and the guys began running high-knee drills. Damn, Bennett hated those when he was younger. These days he’d give anything just to have the ability to do them.

  He shuffled down the steps, his hip and thigh more sore than ever thanks to his new recreational activity. It didn’t help that he’d been practicing at home. But it’s just how he was: if he was going to do something he wanted to get it right.

  Reggie looked and saw Bennett and then walked in his direction. When Reggie was near enough he called out, “Nobody needed homework help today, huh? We gonna start early?”

  “Guess we could. Whatever you want.” Bennett hit the bottom of the stands and then stepped onto the track that surrounded the field.

  Reggie met him near their sideline bench. “Whatever I want? You feeling okay?”

  Bennett laughed. “Yeah, fine. Just a lot on my mind.”

  “Uh-huh. I can tell. Usually the only thing on your mind is football. What’s going on with you?”

  Bennett pulled off his hat and brushed a hand through his hair, sweat already collecting on his head. He was also trying to ignore the way Reggie, hands on his hips, was staring at him.

  “You gonna say something or
pretend you didn’t hear me? Because believe me, I know that game; my wife has it down.”

  Bennett laughed. “Come on, man. Everything’s fine. I’m early, so what.”

  “So what is that it’s not like you to not have students come in on your planning period so you can help them with their science work. On top of that, I didn’t hear a peep from you this weekend. How long’s it been since you didn’t text me repeatedly Saturday after a Friday night game to discuss play changes? So by my calculations, either you were busy all day Saturday, which I can’t imagine, or you weren’t thinking about football, which I also can’t imagine unless something else more important was on your mind. So now you tell me so what.”

  Bennett stared at his friend. “You feel better now that you got that off your chest?” Bennett said dryly.

  “I’ll feel better when you admit that something’s going on with you and that dance coach. You got weird right after that all went down, so what is it? You hit it? That the problem?”

  “Jesus, Reg, we’re at school.” Bennett glanced out to the field. The guys had finished their drill, and without their coach there to give them direction they’d all sat down near the end zone to take a break.

  “They can’t hear me,” Reg said with a wave of his hand. “So is that it?”

  “No, that’s not it.”

  “So the problem is that you haven’t hit it then.”

  Bennett shook his head. “Nothing serious has happened. We kissed, that’s it. And it’s not gonna happen again.”

  Reggie lifted an eyebrow. “Says who?”

  Bennett sighed. “Says her.”

  “No shit.” Reggie winced. “Damn, man, sorry to hear that. I’m honestly shocked. I didn’t know any woman was capable of saying no to Coach Clark.”

  “Yeah, well, she’s one of a kind, that’s for sure.”

  “Well, good. I hope this throws you off your game so I can kick your ass with my dancin’ skills.”

  “Not a chance. If anything, I’m upping my game.”

  Reggie laughed and patted Bennett’s back. “We’ll see about that. I’ll see you out there.” Reggie headed back out on the field, leaving Bennett to stand alone. He sat down on the bench and leaned onto his knees.

  Bennett appreciated that once he’d confessed Reg hadn’t pushed. He knew that if he needed someone to talk to his friend was there, but Reggie wasn’t going to force Bennett into any conversations. Sometimes it was just enough to know that your friends had your back if you needed them.

  But he hadn’t been lying. Yeah, he was distracted, but he was fine. He’d decided to focus on getting through the next month by just making it all about the process. Learning the routine, perfecting it. He could do that, treat it like any other athletic goal. He learned, he practiced, and when the time came he would execute the play. And if things went right, he would win.

  They would win.

  And then he hoped the Evan would follow in January, his boys would get scholarship money, and all would be right in Bennett’s world.

  Yep, that was the plan, and nothing made him feel better than having a plan.

  * * *

  Callie tucked her face into her scarf and shoved her hands into her pockets as she headed out of the school parking lot and into the neighboring field for the homecoming bonfire. The high school sat on the outskirts of town, perfect for such an event, and it was an ideal night for a bonfire. The earthy scent of wood smoke carried in the crisp breeze, the epitome of a fall evening.

  She passed a few tables, the Drama Club selling popcorn, a few PTA moms selling hot apple cider. She decided to purchase a cup, happy to have the warmth on her fingers. She chatted with a mom who asked her about the upcoming Little Pantherettes dance clinic. Callie was really excited about the fund-raiser and the girls had been doing a great job with the planning, for which she was grateful. Apparently it was a long-standing tradition between the cheerleaders and dance team to teach the little girls of Preston a routine that they then performed at a home game.

  Callie inhaled the scent of cinnamon from her cider as she made her way toward the excited mass of students already congregating. Rows of hay bales flanked the roaring fire, and a set of movable metal bleachers faced it on the front side. Several pickup trucks had backed in along the far side, tailgates open and full of snuggling teens. She headed in that direction, only to hear the unmistakable sound of one of her girls giggling.

  Between two trucks, somewhat hidden from view, Callie caught sight of Jessica Monser with a football player, his letter jacket–clad arms wrapped around the girl like a straitjacket. Callie tried to sound laid-back when she called, “Jessica, where should you be?”

  “Oh, be right there, Coach.” Callie watched as Jessica tried to pull herself from the young man’s grasp as he whispered something into her ear that had her giggling again. Her voice was playful when she said, “You need to stop.”

  Callie stood and waited until Jessica finally ran off to join the other members of the dance team. Callie sighed. Why had she just felt a twinge of jealousy of a sixteen-year-old girl? Not because of the boy—ew—but just the blissful ignorance. Flirting and bantering with someone. Callie knew all too well what young love was like. Drama, heartache, and more drama. But there was something to be said for just going with it. Putting yourself out there and seeing what would happen.

  No. An invitation for madness was what that was. It was those heated, young, and reckless relationships that taught people to wise up. Get their shit together and put up emotional walls. The kind that protected your heart.

  Speaking of walls, Callie spotted Bennett across the bonfire pit on the opposite side of the flames. Apparently he was manning the fire. Not a surprise, he seemed like the outdoorsy type and had mentioned camping. She watched as he used a garden shovel to arrange some blazing logs to his liking. Sparks popped from the flames and he stepped back a foot or so. So precise, so controlled. He didn’t do anything on accident or without thought.

  Except maybe that kiss, that had felt very impulsive, which made it all the more frightening. The attraction between them wasn’t a secret even though they hadn’t come right out and discussed it, but she could tell he’d fought it. She’d fought just as hard, and to know that he’d finally given in seemed … big. His kiss had felt like a question: What are we going to do about this? Can I have you? Can you handle me?

  She wasn’t sure she could.

  She watched him now, his eyes glowing in the firelight. She loved the way his jeans molded perfectly to his thick thighs. He looked so adorable in his Preston hoodie, and he’d even put on a well-loved ball cap. Her knees nearly buckled at the sight of him. He was so rugged and masculine but at the same time so boyish. That was the problem; she couldn’t figure this man out and it made her feel out of control. A feeling she wasn’t particularly fond of.

  It had been a little over a week, and they’d practiced three times since the night of the kiss. Things were going surprisingly well with the routine. It was as if he’d decided to stop focusing on her at all and put all of his energy into learning the dance. He’d even picked up the basic waltz step much faster than she’d expected when she’d used duct tape on the floor to help teach him. And while she was happy that the dance was coming along and she loved his newfound dedication … she missed him. Neither one of them had teased or flirted since she’d said they couldn’t kiss again.

  At the time telling him they couldn’t be physical had made sense. Sort of. But the truth was she’d replayed that kiss over and over a million times in her mind. It was crazy; he was in her thoughts while she was baking, cleaning the shop, driving to the bank.

  She even dreamed about him.

  With her mind full of Bennett Clark, practice—while going well—had become hell for Callie. The whole time she tried not to stare at his lips or imagine his hands touching her in inappropriate places. But being that close to such a virile man made things difficult. Probably the only thing that had kept her from breaking h
er own rule was his cool demeanor.

  A log popping made her jump and her eyes met Bennett’s. She gave him a little wave. He only lifted his chin in acknowledgment. They’d seen each other that afternoon for practice, cutting things short early because of the bonfire. But still, he could have seemed a little happier to see her.

  She turned back to the girls, highly annoyed. With him, with herself, with her stupid hormones. What did she want? When he’d kissed her she’d pushed him away and made it very clear that it shouldn’t happen again. He was doing exactly as she asked. And yet she could still imagine the light in his eyes dimming when she’d said it. He’d been surprised … and maybe hurt.

  She was stupid. Stupid because she’d wanted it so badly, wanted it still. But it had been so amazing it had overwhelmed her. Kissing Bennett hadn’t been like any average kiss she’d had before; his was the kind of kiss that you’d never get tired of. Never stop wanting.

  Trying to get over herself, Callie ushered the girls over into the field to stretch. They would do their usual Pep Assembly routines, which was really what this was, a sort of kickoff to homecoming week. After five minutes, Callie counted the dancers. One was missing, so she looked at her phone and found an “I’m running late” text. She went ahead and said a few quick words before she motioned all of them to their designated spot just beyond the fire. Tonight they were wearing their blue and white Pantherettes warm-ups, their new hair bows courtesy of Callie’s mother, and were doing a pom routine in addition to the usual fanfare that accompanied pep rallies.

  Callie found a seat near the girls on a hay bale and took a sip of her cider as the drum line beat out the familiar beginning of the school song, the crowd instantly coming to their feet with a loud cheer. From the corner of her eye she saw the final girl arrive and run toward the group and then watched with pride as her girls proceeded to do a perfect kick routine. She clapped for them, winking as they looked toward her for approval. She was one proud coach tonight. Every night for that matter; they were all special and so very talented.

  The rest of the evening went as she expected. Singing, cheers, burning a football player dummy, announcing the Homecoming candidates. All the usual ruckus. Bennett spoke quickly, as did his two senior captains, which got the crowd incredibly pumped up. Principal Jensen said a few words, and then finally things were drawing to a close.