Win Me Over Page 18

  He reached up and pulled her down, their bodies flush and warm against each other. He kissed her once and then whispered against her lips, “You’re more amazing.”

  She felt his body grind upward, big and hard against her. She smiled. “Oh, I’m sorry, did you still need me for something?”

  He gave her ass a swift smack and she gave a squeak followed by a quiet giggle.

  “Condoms in the drawer.” He nodded to the bedside table and Callie leaned over to retrieve what they needed. After rolling it on, she rose up and slid down onto him, slowly. He had ahold of each thigh, his thumbs squeezing gently as she took him deeper.

  When her behind met his upper thigh she stilled, just wanting to take in the sight of him. He was so perfectly proportioned, his chest wide, dusted with hair across his pecs and down the center of his abs. This was what a man should look like.

  The rising of his chest brought her eyes to his. “I love looking at you,” she said.

  The corner of his mouth quirked up. “I feel the same way about you.” His palms sought her breasts and she leaned over to give him better access.

  “Ride me,” he whispered.

  She did, his thrusts meeting hers inch for inch until, his jaw locked tight, he breathed hard out of his nose and his hands pulled her down for the most sensual kiss of her life. It was all tongue, moans, and him shuddering beneath her. They were amazing together.

  Later they lay tangled up in his bed, Callie drawing circles on his chest with her fingernail. “Sex and a science lesson in one. Impressive.”

  Bennett’s chest vibrated under her head. “Turn you on?”

  Callie looked up at him. “Actually, yes. Tonight was really great.”

  “Yeah. I agree.”

  Not wanting him to think she was looking for some sort of deeper proclamation, she laid her head back down on his chest. “You’re very smart. I always thought most coaches taught gym or speech class.”

  “I always loved science, since I was a kid. Read a lot about it, always did well in science class. When I was seven I asked for a microscope for Christmas. I liked to look at fingernails, hair … scabs.”

  “Ewww, that’s so gross!” Callie exclaimed. They both laughed and he threaded his fingers with hers.

  “Boys are pretty gross. Especially when they’re kids. Did you not have any brothers or even sisters?” Bennett asked.

  “I have a half brother. My dad was married once before. I don’t really know Lane that well. He didn’t spend a lot of time with Dad, plus he’s eight years older, so there wasn’t much of a connection. As soon as he was eighteen he went into the Air Force. He’s an air-traffic controller now in Minnesota.”

  “Wow, that’s cool.”

  Callie shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. We’re Facebook friends. That’s about as close as we get. What about you? Brothers and sisters?”

  “I have an older brother. He’s a doctor in Texas.”

  “Oh wow, a doctor and a professional football player. Your parents must be proud.”

  Bennett went still. Callie looked up at him, unsure of what to say. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive. But I’m sure no matter what happened, they’re still proud.”

  “You’re right, they are. It’s just … I don’t really even like to consider that time in life. I almost wish it was wiped from my memory.”

  “That’s crazy. Look what you accomplished. You know how many guys would like to go through life saying they’d played for the NFL.”

  Bennett’s lips lifted a little. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe my ass. I bet some guys would give their left nut for that.”

  Bennett shook his head, finally giving her a real smile. “You’re crazy.”

  “It’s very possible.”

  Thirteen

  Bennett sat at his desk Thursday afternoon, wired up and ready to get the day over with—including practice. All he wanted was to get home and have Callie in his arms. If that required dancing, so be it.

  After spending the evening in his bed, they’d ended up practicing late into the night. He felt good about how far they’d come—at least how far he’d come. He was still worried he would mess everything up in front of an audience, but even that fear subsided a little more each time he and Callie practiced. He was now able to do the entire routine from memory along with the music. She’d even shown him the lift and they’d done it perfectly several times Tuesday night.

  His leg had given him hell the next morning, but it was still worth it. Being with her touching her. Seeing her smile and tell him he was doing a good job. It was all worth it.

  It was more than the dancing, though. He hadn’t stopped thinking about having sex with her, recalling very vivid memories of her perched above him. Pleasuring her. He wanted her again so badly he was close to losing his mind. The whole thing terrified him. He’d been with women, enjoyed himself. But he hadn’t craved a specific woman ever. Not like this. Not even Ashley.

  There was a knock on the wall and Bennett looked up to find Jason in the doorway to his classroom.

  “Hey, Jason.”

  “Coach.”

  “Come on in and have a seat.” Bennett motioned for a chair near his desk. “So how ya feeling?”

  Jason blew out a breath. “Better, now. I came to bring you this.”

  He handed Bennett a note, written on letterhead. A quick glance told Bennett it was Jason’s medical release to play starting today, which meant he was hoping to participate in Friday’s game. Bennett couldn’t believe they’d cleared Jason so soon.

  The problem was, something was up with Jason. Everybody sensed it. The coaches, the players, even Bennett himself. Something was off.

  Jason and Tate still weren’t speaking and the animosity between the two was affecting everybody on the team. Bennett ran a hand over his face before speaking. He needed to say this right. Delicately.

  “I’ve been really impressed with how you’ve been handling yourself, coming to practice, keeping your grades up. But I want the truth. How are you doing?”

  “What do you mean? I’m cleared to play.” He nodded to the note.

  “I know what the letter says. But I’m asking you a question. You haven’t been yourself and I want to know what’s going on. Tell me how you’re feeling.”

  “I feel fine; I’m ready to get back on the field.”

  “Jason,” Bennett urged, “let’s be real right now.”

  Jason looked at the floor. “I’m frustrated, I guess. Tired.”

  “Pissed?”

  “Pissed as hell.”

  “You have every right to be,” Bennett said. “Depressed?”

  The kid didn’t answer for a long moment and Bennett’s heart fell. He hated seeing one of his guys like this. Bennett couldn’t help consider that Jason’s main job on the field was to protect Tate, the same guy he currently couldn’t forgive. His best friend only a few weeks ago.

  Bennett asked again, “Jason, have you been depressed?”

  “If that means I fed like shit all the time, then yeah.” Jason didn’t meet Bennett’s eyes.

  “I’m sorry, man; I wish this hadn’t happened. Have you and Tate spoken yet?”

  “Not really.”

  “He’s hurting, too, you know?”

  “Yeah, well, not as bad as I am.” Jason’s eyes finally came up, full of anger. “Now he has the full attention of every scout that comes to practice. I’m sorry I said what I did to him. But he fuc—I mean. He punched me. Took me out of the game my senior year. What friend does that?”

  Bennett didn’t know what to say. Jason was right; it was bullshit that this had happened. Friends don’t sucker punch each other, except sometimes they did. “Jason, I hope you don’t think Tate had some sort of agenda; you guys are too close for that.”

  “Are we? Honestly, Coach, I don’t really know what I think anymore. Sometimes I just don’t want to think at all.”

  Bennett chewed on that statement for a moment. He remembered being a teenager. Emot
ions, hormones, and adolescent drama could take its toll, but he’d sat through enough in-service hours about teenage suicide and depression to just blow Jason’s comment off as normal. Shit, he’d felt that way himself. Low enough that life no longer seemed worth living. But that feeling mixed with the head injury. It just didn’t sit right with Bennett.

  “You need to talk to someone about it? I mean, you can talk to me, too, but I mean, ya know … someone.”

  “Like a shrink?”

  “I’m just sayin’ sometimes you need to get things out. You remember who you’re talkin’ to, right? Look at me,” Bennett demanded. Jason’s eyes landed on Bennett’s and he could see so much pain in that young face it hurt to look at it. “There is no feeling going through your head right now that I haven’t dealt with, you understand me? Anger, sadness, self-hatred, guilt, suicide. I’ve felt them all. But I’m here to tell you that your emotions can lie to you and sometimes you need someone to help you figure out the lies from the truth. I talked to a shrink once. I can’t say it was life changing, but it sure didn’t hurt either.”

  Jason looked away, breathing in deep and then running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, Coach.”

  “Jason. We’ll get through this. I’ll help you. This doesn’t mean football is over for you, but you have to trust me.”

  Jason fiddled with his jacket zipper. “Maybe I could talk to Mrs.York.”

  Bennett let out a breath. “I think that’s a good place to start. Why don’t I have a talk with her?” Bennett said. Mrs. York was the school’s psychologist and Bennett liked her. She was married with kids but still young enough not to seem out of touch to the students. He’d actually already given her a little heads-up about Jason, because he’d had a feeling things weren’t going well. “I think talking out some of your frustration will really help.”

  “I just can’t believe that this has happened my senior year. I’ve worked too hard for this.”

  “Yeah, you have, and I wish I could change it for you; I really do. I won’t feed you any lines about what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger … although I just did, but I want you to know I’m on your side. I want you to come back and show these scouts what you’re made of, and I know that some of your pissed-off feelings are aimed toward me. But Jason, you know my position on safety. I won’t risk your health for this sport.”

  Jason’s jaw dropped open, his eyes going wide with shock. Then anger. “What are you sayin’, Coach? You won’t let me play?”

  “No, I’m not ready to let you come back today. Practice can be dangerous, too. You can stand and assist with me. Watch, but you’re not suiting up. You’re going to have to miss Friday’s game.”

  “That’s crap, Coach. I know I’m fine. My parents want me to play; the doctor says I’m good.”

  Bennett hated being the bad guy, more than Jason would ever know. But Bennett wouldn’t back down. “Listen. I get it. You’re angry, and I’m going to have to deal with being the focus of your anger. You may hate me for it, and that sucks. But too many kids are ending up damaged from second hits. I won’t let you be one of them. I know the doc says your concussion is minor, but you haven’t been yourself this past week. And maybe it’s nothing, but I’m not willing to risk it. A concussion is a concussion.”

  Jason was quiet for a long time. “What about next Friday’s game? I heard Jim Rice might come.”

  Bennett knew for a fact that a scout for Mizzou was coming. University of Missouri was one of Jason’s top picks. It would kill Bennett to keep that opportunity from the kid, but he was unwilling to make any promises. “Why don’t we reevaluate next Wednesday morning? In the meantime I want you to meet with Mrs. York every school day. I’ll set it up. Get a lot of sleep; continue to exercise. Feed your body some healthy food. And think about talking to Tate.”

  Jason wrung his hands repeatedly. Bennett let Jason sit there as long as he needed, respecting his need to let the news sink in.

  Finally he looked up. “All right, Coach. I’ll be back in here Wednesday morning before school.”

  “Hey, man, I know things look bleak, but I guarantee you, things could be a lot worse. And even if they were a lot worse, well, then they could still be a lot worse than that. Hear me?”

  “Yeah, I hear ya.”

  Jason shuffled out and Bennett ran his hands through his hair. He didn’t enjoy seeing one of his boys suffer. As a man who had suffered to the extreme himself, he knew it wasn’t as bad as they thought it was, but you couldn’t tell a teenager that. That didn’t stop Bennett from trying.

  * * *

  Callie stood at the front door and glanced around her duplex Thursday evening, trying to envision it from someone else’s perspective. It was cute, if not a little small, decorated with bright colors and some great flea market finds she’d scored with Lindsey—who despite her shy personality was amazing at finding great pieces and haggling.

  Callie was nervous to have Bennett over for the first time. It wasn’t necessary, but she’d started to feel bad that they always went to his place. And the truth was, she wanted him here. Wanted him to know all of her. She’d even made him dinner—a recipe from Anne’s mother, who had assured Callie that her meat loaf was sure to win a man’s heart. Well, Callie wasn’t sure about the heart winning, but she did want to please him.

  She’d come home before team practice that afternoon and made the meat loaf so she could just bake it tonight. The smell in her little place was divine. She’d even made a couple of baked potatoes to go with it. She prayed it all came out tasting as good as it smelled.

  There was a small knock on the door and Callie’s heart pounded. Right before she opened it a high-pitched voice called out, “It’s your mama. Open up.”

  Shit. This could not be happening. Callie swung open the door just in time to catch a large garment bag thrust at her.

  “Mom, what are you doing here?”

  “Doing a fitting, what else?” Barbara held her sewing bag and her purse, dropping both onto Callie’s perfectly plumped sofa. Callie bit back the words she really wanted to say right now.

  “Couldn’t you have given me a call? Let me know you were coming?”

  Barbara’s eyes danced as she turned her head from side to side. “Do you have company?”

  The woman looked hopeful. “Well, not at the moment, but soon.”

  Barbara sniffed. “Are you cooking something?”

  Callie groaned. “Mom, let’s get this fitting done quickly please.” She grabbed the garment bag and headed for her bedroom.

  Shutting the door, she quickly undressed and then pulled the plastic cover off of her dress. She nearly gasped. “Oh, Mom,” she whispered to herself.

  The dress was beautiful. Spectacular even. Callie didn’t give her mother enough credit; the woman was insanely talented when it came to sewing. She might dress herself outlandishly, but she did have an eye when it came to performance outfits.

  Callie carefully pulled the dress from the hanger and slipped it on. She stood in front of her full-length mirror and took it in.

  The sage-green material was incredibly flattering on her. The straps lay perfectly on her shoulders, leading down into the chiffon bodice that fit snug through the waist before flowing into a breezy skirt that hit right at the bases of her calves. It was simple yet so elegant. Callie did a few twirls. A woman was never too old to enjoy a twirly dress.

  She opened her bedroom door and headed down the short hallway. “Mom, I love it.”

  She stepped into the living room and found herself face-to-face with Bennett. He stood up from the sofa as soon as he saw her, his eyes wide.

  He didn’t say anything for a long moment and neither did she. He swallowed hard and his lips parted slightly as his eyes ran the length of her.

  “It’s perfect; don’t you think so, Coach Clark?” Barbara asked. Callie noticed her mother had a twinkle in her eye.

  “I do. It’s beautiful,” he finally managed to say.

  Barbara
’s grin made Callie want to laugh. How did the woman always manage to get her way? Maybe Callie should aspire to be more like her mother.

  “Mom, it’s great. It fits perfectly. Thank you.”

  Barbara walked over and began to feel around at the seams. The process so familiar to Callie it was like stepping back in time. So many hours of her childhood had her standing still as a statue, arms out, as her mother poked and pinned, repinned and measured. Callie had hated it, but standing here as a grown woman, she suddenly realized what an act of love it was. The pageants were ridiculous. Extravagant. Insane. But her mother had always, always, wanted Callie to be happy. Wanted Callie’s father to be happy. Barbara’s entire life was a selfless act, and suddenly that realization made Callie want to cry, instead of judging her mother. The overwhelming rush of gratitude Callie felt for this woman nearly knocked her over.

  As Barbara knelt down to check the hem, Callie glanced at Bennett. He was grinning, and when their eyes met he winked. “I love it. You look beautiful,” he said. No shame, no hiding his words from Barbara.

  “Thank you,” Callie said.

  A moment later Barbara stood. “I think it’ll do.”

  “It will more than do, Mom. It’s wonderful.”

  Barbara grinned. “I’m glad. Well, I guess I’ll just leave you two alone to practice.” Like a gentleman, Bennett helped Barbara carry her stuff out to her car. Callie used the opportunity to go change back into her Capri leggings, heels and T-shirt—better known as her practice outfit.

  When Bennett walked back inside he instantly looked disappointed. “Why’d you take it off? I was looking forward to putting my hands on you in that dress.”

  He shut the front door, locked it, and came right over to where she stood, pulling her into his arms. It felt so easy, so natural. She looked up at him. “We don’t want to mess it up before the competition.”

  “True. So then after the contest you have to wear that dress and let me do whatever I want to you while you’re in it.”

  “How about that night we will celebrate our win with superhot sex?”

  “Sounds good.” He lifted his head. “Are you cooking something? It smells amazing.”