Page 40 of Breakaway

She nodded.

“Then we go to New York and Boston.” He paused, then the craziest thing came out of his mouth. “You should meet me in Boston.”

Her eyes popped open. “What?”

“Yeah. The game’s Saturday night. We could go out after. We have a day off Sunday.”

“I can’t do that!”

“Why not?”

“I…I…just can’t. That’s crazy.”

He shrugged and picked up a strand of her golden hair, rubbing it between thumb and fingers. “It’s not crazy. It’d be fun.”

She shook her head. “I am so out my league with you. I don’t have money for stuff like that, Jase, and I—”

“I’ll pay for it,” he interrupted. Christ, what kind of scum did she think he was, that he’d invite her like that and not pay for it? “I wouldn’t ask you if I wasn’t going to pay your airfare and you can stay with me.”

“Oh.” She nibbled her bottom lip. “That’s nice of you, but I can’t let you do that. And that’s not the only reason. I can’t just take off like that.”

“Why not?” He lifted his chin. “Why can’t you go away for a weekend?”

“Because…because…I just don’t do things like that.”

“I thought you wanted to have fun? Break loose. Living on your own.”

She grimaced. “As you can see, I’m not on my own right now.”

“Your sister is an adult.”

Her brow furrowed and the lip-nibble continued. “I know. But going on a trip…that’s big. I…hardly know you.”

“It’s just fun, Remi. Right?”

“Yes.” Regret shadowed her eyes. “But I can’t. You need to go and focus on your game, anyway. It’s probably better if I don’t come.”

He sighed. She was probably right. He didn’t know why he’d suggested it. Nobody brought girls on a road trip It was kinda crazy and he’d be busy practicing, then playing. Boston was an in and out game, not really a weekend.

“Yeah. You’re right.” He tipped his beer and finished it. “I guess I should go.” He set his empty bottle on the coffee table and leaned forward for a kiss. He’d wanted to touch her since he walked in the door, slide his hands into that silky hair, feel her peachy-soft skin, get his hands under that black turtleneck sweater, find out if she was wearing black lace underwear again.

Christ, it seemed like ages since they’d slept together. He’d been thinking about her for the last few weeks non-stop. When he’d seen her at the school that first day, standing there all cute and little and big eyes full of apprehension, he’d been happily surprised. When he’d found out she was a teacher, that had just about put an end to the strange attraction he felt for her. But his impulsive invitation out for dinner hadn’t turned out so bad. She hadn’t made him feel stupid or lacking.

Even tonight. Although she’d been dismayed by the rough game and his little wound, she’d listened to him talk about the game and hadn’t made him feel stupid. She’d made him feel good.

He needed more of that. He needed to be with her. Bad. And now her sister was down the goddamn hall.

Frustration rose in him as his mouth covered hers and he fought to restrain the lust that made him want to toss her down on the couch cushions and fuck her brains out.

She tasted sweet and warm, her small tongue meeting and playing with his in a long, drugging kiss that had his head spinning even more than the painkillers they’d given him earlier. He put a hand on her cheek, so tiny and soft, and held her face while they kissed and kissed again.

He wanted to growl. A small noise did come from deep in his throat. He coughed and drew back. “I guess I’ll see you Wednesday, then. At school.”

She nodded, mouth full and soft, eyes so turquoise blue and clear he wanted to fall into them and drown in them.

“We’ll go out for dinner after.”

She tipped her head to one side and sent him a slow, so sexy smile. “Okay. Dinner, I can do.”

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