Page 47 of Need You To Choose Me

The hair at my nape rises as I turn around and just stare at Savannah. She’s standing on the sidelines, dressed in a pair of leggings and a baggy tee that does little to hide her bump, a clipboard in her hand. A deep purple ball cap is sitting on top of her head, shielding her face, her blonde ponytail swaying with each movement as she pairs the kids and gives them instructions.

“What the hell is she doing here?” I mutter softly, my gaze locked on her as I watch her interact with the kids. The way she lowers down to talk to them. Her hand falls to the top of their heads, ruffling their hair or patting them on the shoulder. Easy, natural, motherly.

I can’t take my eyes off of her. This was her element, and she was excelling at it.

A little girl tosses the ball to the boy opposite her, the ball barely reaching the kid, making me wince.

Savannah tells something to the girl and jots down a note on her clipboard before moving away to the next kid.

“That’s not how it’s done!” I yell loudly.

Even from here, I can see her shoulders stiffen. Slowly, she turns around, and although her ball cap is throwing a shadow over her face, I can feel her glare fixing on me.

Pushing from the wooden bench, I make my way to her until I’m standing right in front of her.

“What the he—heckdo you think you’re doing?” she hisses softly, tilting her head back.

The corner of my mouth twitches upward at the anger flashing in her eyes and making my own blood boil in answer. I wanted to lean down and press my mouth against hers so I could erase the annoyance from her face and hear her moan my name. I wanted to know how she’d taste and feel like against me.

“The better question is, Blondie, what the heck are you doing?”

“I’m trying to coach football,Mr. Walker.Now if you’d turn around, get your behind seated in the bleachers section and stay quiet, maybe I could actually do that.”

Like hell, I will.

I cross my arms over my chest. “You were doing it wrong.”

She grinds her teeth. “And what, pray tell, was I doing wrong?”

I tilt my head to the side in the direction of the girl. “Her stance is all wrong. You didn’t correct her.”

Savannah steps closer, so our bodies are practically touching, her finger jabbing into my chest. “Number one, I didn’t correct her because it’s our first practice, and I’m trying to see what I’m working with here. Number two, they’resix. We’re not getting ready to play at the Super Bowl. And she’s not freaking Tom Brady.”

“And how do you know anything about Brady?” I pull my brows together, the irritation spiking.

“Everybody knows about Tom Brady.” Her gaze darts over my shoulder, cheeks turning pink. She lowers her voice. “Now sit down, Walker. You’re making a scene.”

“Not until you tell me why the hell you are doing this.”

She’s pregnant, for fuck’s sake. She should be slowing down, not taking on more obligations. Obligations that could get her hurt.

Savannah presses her lips together, that pink turning into a deep red. “Because,” she grits, jabbing her finger into my chest,“there is nobody who wants to do it, and the kids like it. Besides, it’speeweefootball. Now, sit. Down. I don’t need you hulking over me.”

“Blondie…”

“People are watching,kidsare watching.”

I lift my gaze, and sure enough, all eyes were on us—kids and parents included.

Fuck, she’s right.

Not waiting for an answer, she spins on the balls of her feet and goes back to the kids. Like a glutton for punishment, I watch her retreating back, the sway of her hips, the curve of her ass…

Get a grip, Walker. You’re here to watch your kid’s practice, not his teacher’s sexy ass.

Shaking my head, I turn my attention to the field just to catch Levi waving at me, a big smile on his lips. I wave right back and go back to my spot on the bleachers.

The practice resumes, and this time, Savannah actually corrects the kid she’s talking to, although her own stance could use some work. Something I could totally teach her, if?—

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