Page 4 of Full Coverage (Boys of Fall)

So, he was a gentleman. Guys in Texas were raised to be, and his mother, a single mom who was very bitter about being single, had impressed upon him how important it was to treat women well. But now he knew how to be smooth and classy too.

But instead of doing that, and letting Randi off the hook for her comment, he said, “Good, huh? Why’s that?”

Randi turned her attention back on the view in front of her. Nolan moved in to rest his forearms on the top of the fence and put a foot up on the bottom railing.

“Well, I heard she was engaged to Garrett Dunn before he died.”

Garrett was also a Quinn boy. He’d been a cop in San Antonio and had been killed in the line of duty. Nolan nodded. “She was. But she and Carter were very good friends while she was with Garrett and their feelings grew into more.”

Randi seemed to be thinking about that as she took a long draw of her beer.

“Okay,” she said after a moment. She swung her legs over the fence, hopped to the ground, wobbled slightly and then straightened to face him with a big smile.

“Okay what?” he asked, resisting the urge to grab her to be sure she stayed upright. Then he wondered why he’d resisted. It was a great excuse to touch her.

“You can dance with me.”

But that was an even better excuse to touch her. He moved in closer. “Okay.”

Randi started to step past him, but he caught her arm. She looked up in surprise.

“Out here,” he said.

“Thought you said you couldn’t dance with me out here?”

The music drifted out this far. It was soft but clear. And it was dark. And they were alone. Out here was definitely his choice. “Well, might as well stay here. There’s no tequila left in there,” he said, pulling her around in front of him and taking her hand in his as he settled the other on her lower back.

She put a hand on his shoulder, but she was studying his face rather than moving her feet.

Nolan didn’t think they’d ever stood this close to one another before. They’d definitely never stood this close when it was just the two of them. He and Randi had mostly socialized with one another while in groups. They had several friends in common, mostly people connected to the football program—players, cheerleaders and avid fans—so they’d been at parties together and such in high school, and since. A football occasion never went by without someone in Quinn throwing a party. Whether it was a home game for the Titans, the Super Bowl, or any football event in between, there was a social event happening in Quinn. But they had rarely even had a conversation just between the two of them. He could recall maybe half a dozen over the years. And they’d all been extremely awkward.

Nolan had always thought it was because they had very little in common. He had always been self-conscious about what he was saying, if he was getting the football jargon right, if his breath smelled, if he looked the part of the dork with a crush.

But now that he thought back on it with twelve years of maturation, Randi had seemed nervous, or fidgety, or something around him too. And every time they’d talked, something strange had happened.

Once they’d been talking, stiltedly, about geometry class. Suddenly she’d asked if he wanted to see her tattoo. She’d pulled her jeans down on one side and showed him the ladybug tattoo on her left hip. He’d had dirty dreams about that for two weeks afterward.

Then there had been the time they’d been at a party chatting by the snack table about the trouble Jackson had gotten into with one of their teachers. Jackson had been caught having sex with their new young teacher and had been kicked off the football team. There had come an awkward pause in the conversation. Randi had dunked a chip in dip and some of the dip had dropped onto the upper curve of her right breast—he could still remember the exact spot. She’d wiped the drip up with the tip of her finger and as she licked it off, her eyes had met Nolan’s. And she’d blurted, “My peach body powder actually tastes like peaches.”

He’d had dirty dreams about peaches dunked in ranch after that.

There was another time when she’d said something about having poison ivy on her butt and thighs was the most miserable she’d ever been, and the time she’d confessed that she and two of her friends slept naked outside one summer night. He couldn’t remember what had prompted either of those admissions, or if they were even somehow connected, because Randi saying the word “naked” pretty much sucked everything else out of his mind.

Their one-on-ones were always a little bizarre. It was probably no wonder they’d both seemed to avoid conversations with one another.

Her tongue darted out to nervously wet her lips, and he found himself mesmerized by the pink tip and the shininess it left behind.

She reached for the fence and the other shot glass he hadn’t noticed until now. She brought it to her mouth and, with her eyes locked on his, she shot it back. She swallowed, set the glass back on the fence, and stepped closer to him.

“Sorry about drinking all the tequila,” she finally said. “Maybe I can share.”

And suddenly Nolan felt her hand at the back of his head, drawing him down, and then her warm, soft lips against his.

Surprise and desire battled to be the primary emotion coursing through his body.

But then her tongue slid alonghisbottom lip and desire won hands down.

Nolan opened his mouth as both of his hands dropped to her hips and brought her body against his. He definitely tasted the tequila. And a spicy sweetness that was all Randi—and all he’d ever wanted.

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