Page 72 of The Overtime Kiss

I bristle at the word obsessed, only because it’s true.

But I’ve resisted jerking off. I’ve had to since I didn’t want to give in to all this desire. Of course, I don’t tell them I gave in toother thingslast week.

Nope. That wasn’t part of the bet.

Rowan’s fishing for his wallet, handing over a fresh green bill. “Man, I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“You’re steel, dude,” Corbin adds, forking over the payoff too.

I happily take their money. It feels good, beating my friends, but it also feels like a consolation prize.

We resume working out, but as Ford settles in at a bench, he says, “You might have won, but you’re still so screwed.”

I keep a stony face even though I know he’s right.

Later that night, as we’re grabbing Halloween bags and hustling out the door, Luna is practically bouncing like she can’t hold in a secret.

She keeps glancing at the stairs to Sabrina’s apartment. Parker’s on edge, too, pacing in his NASA-issued astronaut jumpsuit, peeking around the corner.

I narrow my eyes. “All right, what’s going on, you little stinkers? Is this another put-a-Zorro-mask-on-Dad moment?”

“No, butyouneed a costume,” Luna says.

“What? You don’t like my football player attire?” I gesture to my Renegades jersey and eye black. “It’s simple. Gets the job done.”

“It’s fine,” Luna says, too quickly. “But wait till you see Sabrina’s.”

And then?—

The door to Sabrina’s place snicks open.

Footsteps sound on the stairs, and my pulse beats annoyingly fast in anticipation.

“And now…in the long program, presenting—Sabrina Snow!” Luna announces like a true commentator.

And that’s when, for the first time ever, I swear in front of my kids. “Holy shit.”

Parker gasps. “Dad.”

But I don’t even care, because—fuck.

She’s wearing a crystal-blue figure-skating costume, the exact shade of her eyes, with a patchwork of rhinestones that catch the light like prisms.

It’s one-shouldered—or is it a single-strap thing? Hell if I know the name of that style. All I know is that one shoulder is draped in soft blue fabric, while the other is bare except for a thin strap of delicate rhinestones.

It’s entirely appropriate. And incredibly sexy.

It shows off the strength in her arms, the grace in how she carries herself, and the bright, outgoing spirit that made her dress up to match my daughter.

She smiles, seeming completely unfazed by my stunned expression. “What do you think? I wore it in college.”

I think it’s going to fuel my figure skater crush for a long, long time.

I think I’m probably going to cave later and watch her videos.

“I think it’s stunning,” I blurt before I can stop myself.

Which—fuck.

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