Page 74 of Even Exchange

“Before I… what?” she says, eyes dazed.

“Before you come over?” I clarify, finger tracing the column of her neck.

“What am I coming over for again?” she asks, and I fight a smile, wondering if my proximity is distracting her.

“Totalk.”

“Right,” she says with a nervous laugh. “About the…” She glances around and drops her voice to a whisper. “Rules.”

“Exactly,” I whisper back. “So, you need anything from your place?”

“Nope.”

“Good,” I say, throwing an arm around her shoulders and leading the way. “Let’s go.”

A few minutes later, I’m unlocking the door and gesturing Charlotte inside.

She strides around, taking in my space, and tilts her head at the full-sized bed.

“Do you have this whole place to yourself?” she asks, spinning to face me.

“I’m a coach. I don’t have to share like you mere mortals.”

She scrunches her nose at me. “I called you the god of footballonce.”

“No take backsies,” I tease, booping her on the nose.

She groans, kicking off her shoes and hopping up on the bed, making herself at home like she always does. “Damn, it’s soft too.” She throws herself back on the mattress. “Lucky bitch.”

I glance down at my attire, noting the grass stain on my shirt from the get up and go drill I showed the boys earlier in practice. There wasn’t time before dinner to clean up since I had an unexpected coaches meeting, and I definitely don’t want to get in my clean sheets in this condition.

“I’ve gotta take a quick shower,” I tell her, and she pops up, resting on her elbows.

“Right now?”

“Do you mind?” I ask, grabbing some clothes from my drawer. “I’ll only be a few.”

“I suppose I’ll manage,” she says, throwing herself back onto the bed, then rolling over and unlocking her phone. Her ass peeks out of her little shorts, and I hold in a groan.

“Great,” I mumble, heading to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes and an unavoidable stress relief session later, I’m pulling on fresh sweats and a Tampa Barracudas T-shirt. Feels weird having my new mascot on my chest instead of my usual CBU get-up, but since I’m a coach forallthe teams, I’m trying not to show I play favorites.Because I definitely do.

I find Charlotte in the same position I left her, sprawled across the entire bed, her ass mercilessly torturing me.

“Scoot,” I say, shoving her leg. She slides over and props herself up against the pillows, and I do the same, turning to face her.

“Alright,boyfriend,” Charlotte says, and I ignore the weird little swirly thing my stomach does. “What did you want to discuss?”

“First,” I say, searching my mind for clarity, “I want to make sure we’re on the same page with what you’re comfortable with.”

“WhatI’mcomfortable with?” Her brows pull together. “What about you? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

I narrow my eyes at her.Is she serious?“I really doubt that could happen.”

She shifts on the mattress. “Then what makes you thinkIwould be uncomfortable?”

“Exhibit A,” I say pointedly. “When I threw my arm over your shoulder after practice today, you pulled away.”

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