Page 7 of Merry Mischief List

“Love you,” she replies and hangs up, allowing me to mull over my next week’s plans—or rather, lack thereof—in peace.

The brunette spins her seat toward me, her leg brushing mine as she glares at me with a familiar face I can’tquiteplace.

“Well, if it isn’t Mr. Buzzkill,” she says mockingly before taking a long sip of the sangria in her hand.

“Excuse me?” I scoff.

“Come to give me a detention, Coach Porter?” She bumps her wrists together, fists clenched. “Cuff me now, and let’s get it over with.”

Pretty sure I’d remember tying this girl up…Or have I really slept with so many people I can’t remember their names anymore?

“I’m sorry, do we know each other?” I ask.

An incredulous laugh rips from her. “Well, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you have no clue who I am.” She spins away, nursing another long pull from her glass. Her cheeks are flushed, and I’d wager my year’s salary it’s not her first of the night.

The bartender places my drink down, but I can’t stop analyzing her face. The way her eyelashes flutter every time she pretends not to glance at me. How her lips roll together as she fights to make another confusing assumption. She shifts in her seat, and my attention drops to her long legs wrapped around each other.

I’d rather they were wrapped around me.

“I’ve seen you almost every day at the practice stadium for the last three years,” she blurts.

“Only football players and—” My eyes drop to her Crystal Bay University Cheer tank top.

“Cheerleaders,” she finishes for me. “Yep, that’s me.”

Great, I was fantasizing about a student. Head Coach of the Year…“I only pay attention to my players.”

“You also dated my sister,” she supplies.

“What?” I all but break my neck turning to look at her. The only legitimate ex I’ve had in years is Jess Lyons, and she has a younger sister, but the only thing I remember about her is she was obsessed with cupcakes and was hardly a teenager.

Yeah, six years ago, you dumbass. Do the math.

“You’reCupcake?” I ask, eyes tracing her face for any similarities to my ex. If theyarerelated, they look drastically different aside from matching brown eyes.

“I’m sorry?” She fights a laugh. “I’m who?”

“You’reJess’ssister?”

“Andi Lyons, at your service.” She eyes me curiously. “Cupcake?”

I roll my lips together. “Yeah, the only thing I remember about you is that you had an obsession with cupcakes.”

“It was not an obsession! I like cupcakes a verynormalamount,” she argues, throwing a hand over her heart. My eyes follow the movement, locking in on her chest. Her perfectly symmetrical chest…What the hell is wrong with me?

“If you say so,” I reply, forcing my gaze toward her mouth as she takes another sip of the sangria. “Are you even old enough to drink?”

“Seriously?” She glares at me. “I’m twenty-one. Do you need to see my ID?”

“I’ll take your word for it,” I say, feeling absolutely ancient.

“Good.” She swirls the liquid in her glass. “Your flight get canceled too?”

“Yep,” I say and take a sip of my drink. “Were you able to reschedule?”

“Nope,” she clips. “Next flight isn’t till Christmas Eve, and by then it’s not worth it since we have to be back by the twenty-seventh for practice. You?”

“Yeah, same boat,” I say, as if I even tried to find an alternative flight.

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