“Crazy,” she says playfully.
I step closer to her. “What if . . .”
She laughs softly, clearly liking things so far. “What if . . .?”
I go for it, run like hell with a brand-new plan. “What if we agree to date at the end of the season when your classes with the team end? I know it’s a couple of months away, but I’m not seeing anyone else and I’m not going to see anyone else. You’re the woman I want, and these last few weeks have only solidified that more. I don’t want to let you get away. I want to lock you up as my date,” I say, putting that out there and hoping she likes the plan too. I sure do. It feels like the only answer to the what can we do question.
Her smile is radiant. Her hand flies to her chest, and her eyes well up with something like . . . joy.
“I want that, Harlan. I do. Truly, I do.” But her smile disappears in a heartbeat, replaced by resignation. “The trouble is the team has already said it plans to renew the contract.”
22
Harlan
I’m sadder than the time we lost the championship game five years ago.
I thought I’d erased that awful memory, but it comes roaring back right now. I felt like shit the day we lost by a field goal to Baltimore, erasing our Super Bowl chances.
Now, I feel worse.
I should be able to fix this. My job is to find openings. It’s to solve problems on the field. It’s to dodge two-hundred-fifty-pound obstacles in the form of linebackers and quicksilver tight ends champing at the bit to slam me to the ground.
I can move like a cheetah on the gridiron, spinning and whirling away from threats. But I can’t get out of the way of a problem like this.
“That is . . . awful but awesome,” I say like I’m chewing on sand.
“Yeah,” she says with a sigh. “You took the words out of my mouth.”
I can’t even make a joke. “Well, I get it. You’re a great teacher. Hell, you’ve helped me. And I mean that from the bottom of my heart and my hamstring.”
The smile that curves her lips is both tender and wistful. “I’m very glad it’s working. That makes me . . . professionally happy.”
“But personally?”
She takes a beat and moves the mixing bowl with the sugar in it a few inches away, then the brown sugar bowl. They don’t need moving.
Letting go of the bowl, she turns to me, strength in her blue eyes. “But personally, I want everything you said. And I feel like I should be terrified because of what happened last summer . . . but I’m not.” She blows out a breath of obvious relief. “Whew. I kind of can’t believe I just said that, because for the last few weeks I was so dang worried. Worried about taking my time, going slowly, doing everything differently. Making sure I wasn’t caught up. But everything with you feels right, and I want what’s next. I want to pursue a relationship with you. But that’s not what worries me.”
My heart beats faster. Never has a relationship sounded so good as it does on her lips. I want a relationship with her more than I want to win my next game.
And I really like winning games.
Trouble is, her thoughts are unfinished.
“But what does worry you?”
“I don’t want to hurt people,” she explains. “I don’t want to do in business what my mother did in love. I don’t want to go behind anyone’s back and hurt them through my actions.”
Why is integrity so damn sexy? Oh, because it fucking is. “I understand,” I say, my heart sinking once more, up and down like a yo-yo.
Katie nibbles on the corner of her lips, then takes a deep breath. Like she’s fortifying herself. “But what if I work to find a replacement? I would search through our roster of teachers and talk to Zachary—he’s our business dev guy—and also Olive. And tell them at the end of the season, I need to step back. I’ll say the Renegades can’t have me next year.”
And it’s happy yo-yo land.
Excitement buzzes through my veins. “So the Renegades can’t have you, but I can?” I ask, all flirty again.
She grins, then giggles too. “I like this plan. I’ll make it work. I’ll figure it out.”
“I fucking love it,” I say. “Let’s do it. Whenever it works for you, I’m by your side. Know that, okay?”
She nods, her eyes a little shiny. “That’s kind of amazing.”
“I mean it, Katie. You call the shots here. I’ll just be waiting to kiss you on the field whenever you’re ready. I know our timing has been all wrong, but let’s make this our time, once and for all. And thank you. I know this falls on you, when to do this, how to do this, so thank you.”