Page 99 of Cheap Shot
“Tell me again. Tell me you love me,” he murmurs, his voice gravel and velvet, lips grazing the shell of my ear.
I meet his eyes, bold and bare. “I love you.”
His mouth crashes into mine again, and this time, there’s no pause, no hesitation. Just heat. Need. Us.
Clothes are forgotten. Skin meets skin. The couch shifts beneath us, but neither of us cares. It’s slow at first—savoring. Exploring. Worshipping. The urgency is like we’ve been waiting a lifetime to get here.
His name breaks on my lips again as he pulls me closer, anchoring me to him like he never wants to let go.
And I hope he never does.
ChapterTwenty-Seven
Cole
Michele is curled against my chest, her leg hooked over mine beneath the blanket we never straightened before falling asleep right here on the couch. I’ve been awake for a while now, not wanting to disturb her sleep. My fingers brush down her spine slowly, like I’ve got all the time in the world. And for once, it feels like I do. Like time’s stretching for us instead of running away.
I did it. I told Michele that I love her, and by some miracle, she feels the same way. Thank fuck. I was so terrified of how she was going to react when I told her I was in love with her, it didn’t even cross my mind that she might also feel the same way about me. I wanted to be sure to find the perfect time to broach the subject, but it happened in the most natural way possible. It wasn’t in the heat-of-the-moment way or something that was uttered in between heated kisses and moans of pleasure. We whispered it to each other in the quiet moments after, staring deeply into each other's eyes, stripped bare in every way.
Last night was the first time since Dad died that I believed someone could feel that way about me. Not just saying the words because it was expected of them, but because they mean them. I could feel those three words deep in my soul with aching certainty I’d found something rare and real and worth everything I had left.
A soft meow breaks through the silence. Imhotep, Michele’s hairless little bodyguard, pads onto the couch and leaps up, clearly intent on reclaiming his territory as he settles next to Michele’s hip, glaring at me like he can see my soul.
“I get it,” I whisper, not moving. “She’s yours.”
The cat flicks his tail in my direction, curling up and relaxing into his spot, only to be disturbed by a loud noise. He startles off the couch as it morphs from a soft but patient knock to a demanding pounding. The kind of knock that doesn’t belong to a friend, neighbor, or someone stopping by to check on you. It’s the kind that announces itself like a threat.
Michele pops up from her spot on my chest, her head swiveling back and forth, looking for the threat. Her entire body stiffens against mine.
“Are you expecting someone?”
She shakes her head, slowly and small. Her mouth is pressed into a tight line as the knock echoes around the room. Michele sits up, tugging the blanket and wrapping it around her body like a shield.
“You want me to get it?” I ask, grabbing my boxers off the floor and slipping them over my naked flesh.
“No,” she murmurs, already walking toward the door. A third knock bangs against the door as she grabs the handle, pulling the door open a crack. Just enough to see out, but then her whole body stills. Breath hitched. Shoulders locked.
“Let me in, Michele.” The familiar, commanding voice reaches my ears, and I know our time of bliss has been interrupted.
“Give me a minute.” She pushes the door shut, her entire body trembling as she rushes back to the couch, grabbing her pajama pants from the floor and pulling them on.
Her skin turns pale as she drops onto the couch, her arms resting on her legs. “How did he find out?”
“I don’t know, and right now, it doesn’t matter. He’s here now, and I’m sure he wants answers.” I drop to my knees in front of her, eyes scanning her face, searching for how I can make this better for her.
“He’s going to kick you off the team.” Tears pool in her eyes as she reaches for my hands, grasping them tightly in hers. “What are you going to do?”
“It doesn’t matter, Trouble. None of that matters to me.” I bring her hand to my mouth, brushing my lips against the back of her hand. “What do you want to do?”
“Is that fucker in there?” he bellows, pounding on the door again, demanding to be let in, but he can wait.
“You don’t have to open that door.” I grab her hands, turning her away from the door so she’s looking at me. “He’s angry, which is understandable, but you can send him away. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”
“No, let's get this over with.” She forces a smile for my benefit before she pushes to her feet and heads right for the door, opening it slowly.
Coach Mercer brushes past her like he owns the place, eyes immediately zeroing in on me, shirtless and disheveled, standing a few inches away from his daughter.
“Dad—” Michele starts, voice strained as her fingers twist in the fabric of her pants.
