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21

NOAH

“Stop fidgeting,” Charlotte says as I run a hand through my hair for the tenth time. Every person important to the sport of football is here. From newscasters to Super Bowl champions and everyone in between.

Charlotte told Andi we’d meet them downstairs, and after getting my boner under control—which was not easy, because my god, does she look hot—we finally made it to the lobby.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper down to her. “I’m not used to these types of things.”

“You’ve done plenty of fancy events for CBU.”

“Yeah,” I say as we walk through the rows and rows of round tables anointed with gold cutlery and enormous bouquet centerpieces. The only word I can use to describe it: lavish. “But at CBU I knew everyone.”

“It’ll take time for this team to feel like family too.” She hooks her arm in mine. “Take my word for it. By next year, everyone will know you.”

I swallow hard, anxiety buzzing in my bones. “Maybe.”

“Can I give you a few tips?” she asks, her soft smile bringing me comfort.

“Sure.”

“For one.” She squeezes my side, and I yelp.

“Charlotte!” I glance around as my cheeks turn red from the high-pitched sound she forced out of me.

“You need to loosen up. You look constipated.”

“I thought that wasn’t anything to tell a partner?” I ask, a smile creeping on my face.

“Well, if it’s the truth, it’s the truth. Relax.”

Rolling my shoulders, I release a breath. “Okay.”

“These are just people . They’re literally human.”

“Yeah, super humans who’ve won the greatest titles there are to win in football.”

I spot Derek James, the running back of the LA Scorpions, in the far corner toasting a drink with another man. Every nerve fires off in rapid succession. Is this how people feel meeting Taylor Swift? Because if so, I get it now. I want to kick my feet and give him a friendship bracelet with my damn phone number on it.

Charlotte follows my eyeline. “Do you think Derek James woke up one day with a Super Bowl ring on his finger?”

“ Six Super Bowl rings,” I correct, and she narrows her eyes at me.

“My point is, he lives, breathes, and sleeps football—just like you. Just like everyone else here. So bond over that. These are your peers. You have nothing to be nervous about.”

I clench and release my hands, hoping to expel some of the tension. “And if I still am?”

“Then you need my final piece of advice,” she says, accepting two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter. “Always have a drink in your hand.”

“I don’t think drinking is a good idea.” Not trying to embarrass myself or Charlotte.

“I didn’t say you had to drink it.” She rolls her eyes, passing me my glass. “But holding it keeps you from fidgeting or awkwardly finding something to do with your hands.”

I tip the flute at hers. “That’s all good advice.”

“You’re not the only teacher in this relationship,” she says, clinking my glass. My eyes fall to her lips. So soft.

“Well, hello, gorgeous people,” Andi says with Knox trailing behind her, along with another familiar face.

Cockblocked. Again.

“Hey, Coach,” I say, reaching out a hand.

“Caruso,” Coach Porter says, returning a firm shake.

“Surprised to see you here.”

“I used to play for the Barracudas,” he reminds me. “So they rope me into every event they can since I’m still living in Tampa.”

“As fun as this is,” Andi says, clapping her hands together, “can we find our table? I’m starved.”

* * *

“Two glasses, please,” I tell the bartender before shoving money in an already overfilled tip jar. We’ve enjoyed a four-course meal, and now it’s the “fun” small talk, mingling part of the evening.

“One of those for me?” a familiar voice says, and I turn to find the same unwelcome redhead who’s going to be the death of me. Seriously. If Charlotte finds us together again, that’s the end. And that in itself would kill me.

“No,” I say, unamused.

“Oh.” She pouts. “Thought it might be an apology.”

My eyes fly to her. “For what?”

“For pawning me off on your little friends,” she says with a smirk.

She’s relentless.

“How about you give me an apology for almost ruining my relationship?” I say, tone low.

“Your relationship,” she scoffs, and my veins run hot. “You didn’t seem to care when she threw you at me in Miami.”

“That’s funny,” I say, taking a calming breath. “Because as far as I remember, she was the one who ended up in my bed that night.”

“Yeah, okay.” Hannah huffs, signaling the bartender for a drink. “Just another guy blowing me off because of my dad.” She is delusional. “Can’t a girl have a little fun?”

“Fun?” I scoff, then lower my voice to a whisper. “Fun is not showing up naked in someone’s bed unsolicited.”

“It’s called the Naked Man. Ever heard of it?”

I blow out a breath. “ How I Met Your Mother is one of the best sitcoms, so yeah. I’ve heard of it.”

“Okay, well, I was trying the Naked Man.”

“You’re supposed to do that after a date, ” I remind her.

“So I skipped ahead a little. Sue me.” She swirls her drink with a thin straw. “I’m sick of being around all these ten-out-of-ten men and them not giving me the time of day because of who I’m related to. They’re all terrified of my dad, and I thought since I met you before you were his bitch, I might have a chance.”

I ignore her comment about me being her dad’s bitch because, well, to be honest, as long as he determines my playing time, I am. And that’s fine by me.

“Want my advice?” I say.

“Be my guest.” She takes a sip of her drink.

“Stop trying so hard. No guy wants a girl who stalks them.”

“I didn’t stalk you,” she squeaks, mildly offended, and I raise my brows. “Fine. Maybe a little.”

Our defensive line coach, Mateo Cruz, walks up, towering behind her. “Everything okay here?”

My stomach sinks. I hope he doesn’t have the wrong idea. Not trying to run side steps till I vomit. Hannah rolls her eyes. “Yes, Matty. Everything is fine.”

Two glasses of champagne are placed in front of me, and I retrieve them with haste. “Have a nice night.”

I make my way towards Charlotte, and her eyes—or rather, laser beams—are glued to mine. Setting the flutes down on the table, I take note of the fullness of it and the lack of privacy. The question in Charlotte’s eyes has me tugging her to stand and towards the dance floor. A string quartet is playing, and I twirl her to face me. Her one hand grips mine, the other around my neck. Our eyes meet, and I glide my opposite hand slowly down the soft silk of her dress to land on her lower back. She’s so beautiful.

“Speak your mind,” I tell her as the full dance floor surrounds us like a privacy wall.

“Hannah looks”—her mouth twists—“nice.”

“She looks fine.”

“Fine?” Charlotte scoffs. “She looks perfect.”

“ You look perfect,” I say, tugging her body against mine. “She looks fine.”

“Don’t stroke my ego,” Charlotte sasses with furrowed brows. “She looked hot. Admit it.”

I fight a smile, noting the wrinkle line on her forehead. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re jealous.”

“Jealous? Of the model with legs for days, perfect tits, and a siren smile?” she says sarcastically. “Now, why would I ever be jealous?”

I chuckle as we sway to the music. “Can I add my own rule for the night?”

“I didn’t give you rules. I gave you tips.”

“Okay, well, I’m adding one.”

Her grip tightens in my hand before loosening again. “What is it?”

“No more talking about other women.”

“Coach Porter looks very handsome tonight,” she says with a brow waggle, gesturing to him and Andi, who are dancing near us. Is she serious right now?

I narrow my eyes. “Or men. We’re on a date.”

“A fake date.”

Annoyance thrums through me. “Right.” I tug her closer and tap my forehead to hers. “No using that word either.”

Her deep brown eyes bore into mine. “You’re bossy tonight.”

“No worrying about other people. No jealousy. No talking about this being fake or anything like that.” My hand cradles her waist, the shape of her hip perfectly molded to my palm. “Let’s be on this date , enjoy each other’s company.” I lean down to her ear, whispering, “And maybe, if you’re a good girl, you’ll get another lesson later.”

She trails a thumb along my neck, eliciting goosebumps. “What if I don’t wanna be a good girl?”

My jaw clenches, fighting a shit-eating grin. “I’d be okay with that too.” A wicked smile spreads across her face. “I was trying to take my time undressing you earlier and ended up screwing myself.” I rub my hand over the swell of her ass, squeezing a handful. “Because I’ve been dying to find out what’s underneath this dress.”

“I already told you,” she says coyly as I return my hold to her lower back. “Nothing.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Guess you’ll have to check for yourself then,” she says, and all the blood rushes south.

“Fuck, Charlotte.” I drop my head into the crook of her neck, the room around us entirely forgotten.

It’s just me, the hottest woman alive, and a raging boner.

“What?”

“I’m pretty sure walking around this gala with a hard-on would be against the rules.”

She nudges me away so we’re eye to eye, our lips nearly touching. “Don’t worry, baby ,” she says with an exhale. “I’ll take care of that later too.”

If I thought she was irresistible before, confident Charlotte is an undeniable temptation. She’s the first warmth of sunshine after a cold, dark winter, and I will never get enough.

“ Soffione .”

“Noah.”

“ Mi piaci da impazzire. ”? 1 If she only knew how much.

The song ends, and Andi and Coach Porter come our way.

“Hey, love birds,” Andi says.

I attempt to steady my breathing. “Hey.”

“Char, I’ve got to go to the bathroom. Join me?” Andi asks.

“Sure,” Charlotte says, giving my arm a squeeze before stepping away. “I could use a little freshening up myself.”

The girls walk off, turning heads as they make their way toward the exit. That dress was worth every damn penny.

“Wanna grab a drink?” Coach Porter asks, turning my attention back to him and gesturing towards the bar.

“Definitely,” I say, and this time, I intend to actually drink it.

“How are you handling everything?” he asks.

“Everything?” I repeat, Charlotte stuck in my mind.

“Yeah. The transition to pro?”

“It’s been a lot,” I admit, considering the rigorous training regimen and meetings on top of helping at Camp Dickson.

“Well, keep being the Noah Caruso I know, and you’ll be fine.”

Pride fills me. “Thanks, Coach.”

“Can we stop with the ‘coach’ thing?” he says with a laugh. “Just call me Porter.”

“Okay… Porter,” I say awkwardly. “I’m sorry, it feels wrong.”

“We’re peers now,” he reminds me. “I was honored to coach you, and now I look forward to watching you play for the Barracudas next year.”

“Hey,” Coach Bexley says, coming up to greet the two of us, and we return the gesture. “Nice to see you, Porter.”

“Bex,” he says with a nod.

“Ready to take me up on my offer yet?” he asks Porter.

“Get the approval for the additional benefits I requested?” Porter replies.

“You know they’ll never go for it,” Coach Bexley tells him. I glance between them, wondering if I should excuse myself from this conversation that clearly doesn’t involve me.

“Then they’ll never have me,” Porter says smugly.

“Bastard,” Bexley says, turning his attention to me. “Anyways, Caruso, I want to invite you to a pre-training camp starting next week. It’ll run till the end of June, and then you’ll have a few days off over the Fourth before official training starts.”

“Oh,” I say, surprised. “End of June?”

“Yeah?” His brows pull together. “That gonna be a problem?”

I think about the time I’d be missing with Charlotte before life really gets crazy. The time she’d have to be at camp with McFuck Face without me.

“I’m actually training at Camp Di?—”

“He’ll be there,” Porter says for me, and my eyes dart to his face. His expression tells me to shut the fuck up if I want to live.

I return my attention to Coach Bexley, and say, “I’ll be there.”

“Wonderful,” he says. “You’ll get an email with the details. See you Monday.”

And he’s gone.

“What the hell?” I say to Porter.

“What the hell, me?” He slaps me on the back of the head. “What the hell, you? You’re going to give up a private extra training for the NFL team you just signed with? Why? You need to get your priorities straight.”

“They are,” I tell him weakly. Aren’t they?

“They better be,” he tells me firmly. “If you want this, if you want to be the best, you have to practice like the best. You have to play like the best. And you sure as hell will not be giving up any opportunities or extra attention.”

A stadium-sized weight presses on my shoulders. I’ve been so focused on Charlotte, I haven’t prioritized football. She’s not even my real girlfriend, yet, and it’s already affecting my job. This is why I avoid relationships. The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Charlotte is the one thing keeping me sane right now. She is not a distraction… is she?

“I vouched for you,” Porter continues. “And you are not going to make me look like an idiot. Especially not this year.”

“Why exactly is this year different?” I ask, ready to be out of the hot seat.

“It’s on a need-to-know basis,” he says, returning to nurse his drink.

“Will I need to call you Coach Porter again sometime soon?” I press, fighting a smile.

“Not likely. They can’t afford me.”

“Are we done here?” Knox asks, throwing an arm around Porter.

“Yes,” Porter says before downing the rest of his drink. “Please.”

“We’re going to Ploutos,” Knox tells me. “Care to join?”

“I’ll ask Charlotte if she’s up for it,” I say, thinking about the hotel room awaiting us upstairs and all the things I’m planning to do to her in it. We walk out to the hallway and meet the girls.

Charlotte saddles up next to me, and I throw an arm around her shoulder, tugging her close. “They’re going to Ploutos, a club near here. Do you want to go?”

She contemplates me, biting her lip. “No, I don’t think so.”

I grin, looking towards our friends. “We’re going to call it a night.”

“Have fun,” Andi says with a teasing wave as the three of them walk away.

“You sure you’re fine with not going out?” I ask, turning to face Charlotte.

“Definitely,” she says with a mischievous grin. “I’m not really in the mood for clubbing tonight.”

“What are you in the mood for?”

“Isn’t preparing the lesson plan your job, Professor?” she says, low and sultry, gripping my suit jacket and tugging me with her as she retreats towards the wall, her back hitting a wooden door with a rattle.

“If I didn’t know better”—I flatten my hand behind her, caging her in—“I’d say you’re asking for trouble.”

“What makes you assume you know me so well?”

The click of a door followed by a flood of chatter fills the hallway. One voice in particular stands out that I would definitely not like interrupting this moment. My eyes snag on the door behind Charlotte, and I reach around her, tugging it open. Gripping her waist, I pull us inside the room and shut the door with a quiet click. The space is dark, an exit sign illuminating it enough to indicate it’s some kind of supply closet.

“What are you doing?” Charlotte giggles as her hands clutch my suit jacket, tugging me close.

“Taking a private minute with my beautiful date where I don’t have to make small talk.” Or deal with unwanted advances from my boss’s daughter. My hands hold her waist, the delicate material begging to be rumpled.

“So you’d rather be in the closet?”

“I’d rather be anywhere you are,” I admit, the urge for her overwhelming.

“Well, I am great company.”

Our breaths are heavy in the small space. Even with the limited visibility, her curious gaze sears me.

“I think the lessons are working,” I tell her.

“Why do you say that?”

“You’re confident tonight.” And fuck, is it hot.

She slides a hand under my suit jacket, pushing it off to rub my torso. “I feel sexy.”

“You are.” A beat passes between us. I drag my hand down her leg to the slit of her dress and slide under, gripping her bare thigh. “Care for an extra credit opportunity on public fornication?”

She snorts. “Well, I definitely am hot for teacher.”

“Hmm,” I say, my fingers inching up her thigh. I am finding out what’s underneath this dress.

“Noah.” She giggles, placing a hand on mine and pausing it in place. “What if we get caught?”

“That possibility makes it all the more fun.” I bend down, placing a kiss on her neck.

“I don’t know…”

“Are you uncomfortable right now?” I ask, gripping her thigh.

“Maybe.”

“Because we’re in a closet or because you want me to stop?”

“Oh, god no. Don’t stop,” she tells me in a desperate plea. “I’ve just… never done something like this before.”

“Well, let me help you relax a bit.” I drop to my knees, and she grips my shoulders. I drag my hands down to her ankles, thumb brushing against the soft skin as I take off her heels. “Better?”

“Loads,” she says with a satisfied moan.

“That wasn’t the relaxing part.” Sliding my hands up her calves and past her knees, I inch the silk material to her thighs. “It’s a tragedy I can’t see you right now. You’re so beautiful.”

“How would you know if you can’t see me?”

“Because you always are.”

“Noah,” she says with a breath.

I push the material upwards, determined for an answer, and—“Fuck.”

“What?” she asks, tone panicked. My fingers trace the skin of her hips. The bare skin.

“You’re not wearing any underwear,” I croak out, my mouth dry.

“I told you I wasn’t,” she reminds me, sounding pleased with herself.

My grip tightens on her hips in an attempt to ground myself. To stop myself from going too fast. To remind myself to enjoy her. To take my time.

“You’ve been walking around like this all night?” The room is quiet. “Charlotte?”

“I may have taken them off in the bathroom at Andi’s encouragement.”

I chuckle. “Well, thank her for me.”

“Is this the relaxing part?” she asks. “You massaging my ass?”

My hands seem to have wandered, squeezing tighter than intended. “I…” My mouth opens and closes, her sweet smell drawing me closer to that spot between her legs, the throbbing of my cock growing painful. “Fuck, I want you.”

“Then take me,” she begs.

“I want to touch every inch of your skin.”

“Please do.”

“I want to taste you.”

“Then shut up and do it already,” she pleads desperately, and the dress is shoved up, my mouth on her cunt.

Gripping her waist, I hook her legs over my shoulders, slamming her back against the door, which rattles once more. Soft moans escape her as I flick my tongue on her clit, drowning myself in her pretty pussy. A supernova of sweetness. Even better than last time.

I hum against her, unable to stop myself as my hard dick makes my suit pants even tighter. She grips my hair, whimpering, and I place soft kisses along her inner thighs. “This dress needs to go, soffione .”

She unzips it, tugs it off and over her head, and tosses it behind me. Something falls with a crash but I’m too preoccupied with her to care.

“ Non fermarmi mai, ” I mumble against her. “ Per favore, non mi stoppare mai. ” ? 2

She whimpers. “If you keep speaking Italian, I’m going to come in seconds.”

“Ah sì?” A thrill rushes through me. “Ti piace quando ti parlo in italiano?” ? 3

“Noah,” she pleads as I thrash my tongue against her, only coming up for air to torture her again.

“ Vorrei essere dentro di te, ” I groan, gripping her thigh tightly.

“Tell me that in English or we stop.”

No fucking chance. “I wish I was inside of you.”

She gasps, taking a pause. “Then what are you waiting for?”

I freeze. “I don’t have a condom.”

Why the fuck didn’t I bring a condom?

“Just pull out when you’re close,” she says breathlessly. “I’ve done it plenty of times.”

I shove away the jealousy, remembering he’s been inside of her. Bare. But I haven’t, other than a quick teasing session. Yeah, that pisses me right the fuck off.

The need to claim her is overwhelming.

I drop her to the ground and pin her naked body against the door, bringing my lips to her ear. “Are you sure?”

“Remember what you said to me the first night? That you fantasized sliding into me bare? Feeling my ‘tight little pussy’ get you off?” Her fingers dance along my neck, clouding my mind.

“As if I could forget my favorite fantasy,” I say with a quick breath, my cock throbbing.

“Let’s bring it to life so you don’t have to wonder anymore.”

“Are you drunk?” I ask, struggling for my own sobriety. Not from alcohol, but from her. She fucking intoxicates me. Keeping my thoughts straight is impossible. Especially when she undoes my belt buckle and pants, nudging them down, along with my boxer briefs, and they drop to the floor.

“Only on you,” she says, wrapping her fingers around my cock, and I groan as she slides her hand up and down the shaft. “Fuck, you’re so hard.”

“Of course I am,” I growl. “Have you seen yourself? It’s a miracle we made it out of the hotel room.”

She tugs me towards her and places her hands on my shoulders. I grip her hips, lifting her so our centers are aligned, and she swipes my dick between her until I’m drenched, pressing against her entrance. Her warm breath ghosts my mouth. “Kiss me, Noah.”

Our lips collide. Hungry. Desperate. As my need for her intensifies, she moans, and I grip her ass, tugging her towards me. My tip slips inside, and I gasp for air.

So. Damn. Warm. “Fuck.”

“Yes. Fuck me.” She kisses my neck, nibbling against my collarbone, hands tight in my hair.

I hold her body close, trying to steady myself. Flashes of every fantasy I’ve ever had about this exact moment go through my mind. Except they were nothing compared to the perfection that is this reality.

“Please,” she begs. “Please, baby.”

Baby.

I slam in to the hilt, silencing her cries with my mouth, our tongues tangling. Frantic. Like if we stop, we might die. I know I would.

I thrust slowly, that euphoric feeling building. “This good for you?” I ask.

“Yes,” she pants out.

I slide my fingers into her hair. “You’re so beautiful.”

She laughs breathlessly. “Again, you can’t even see me.”

“I don’t need to.” I slow my movements. “I have you memorized.”

“How do I look now then?”

I bring a finger to her mouth, dragging it along her lower lip. “Your smile is relaxed. Comfortable.” My knuckles brush her cheek bone. “Your eyes, the most perfect shade of brown I’ve ever seen. Like dark honey.” I run my fingers through her curls, brushing out a few knots. Thrust . “Your hair is flawless.” I tighten my grip on it, and she gasps as I sink deeper. “Begging to be tousled.” I run my hands along her shoulders. Thrust. “Your skin is soft and perfect.” My fingers trace her sides down to her hip bones, landing on her perfect bare ass, and I squeeze. Thrust. “And don’t even get me started how pretty your pussy is.”

“Noah,” she whines, rotating her hips.

“ Sì, soffione mio ?” I chuckle, her impatience growing.

“I need more.”

“I’m trying to savor you.”

“You have all night to savor me,” she promises. “But right now, I want you to give me what I need.”

I slide a hand into her hair, the other gripping her thigh. “And what exactly is that?”

“Faster.” She pants. “Deeper.” She drops her mouth to my neck and bites. Hard. I gasp at the delicious pain, increasing my rhythm. The clap of our bodies echoing in the space. “And don’t you dare fucking stop.”

Tingles dance down my body. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

She gasps against me. “I’m close.”

Shit. “Me too.”

My mind blurs, and I’m lost in her. Lost in us. She pulses around me, throwing herself over the edge. Her body sags slightly, and I pull out, my warm release landing between her thighs and on my hand. Once again, the small room is filled with purely the sound of our labored breaths blending together in a beautiful harmony.

Charlotte laughs. “You made a fucking mess of me.”

Pride fills my chest. “Hell yeah, I did.”

“I have tissues in my wristlet,” she says. “Can you look for my dress while I clean myself up?”

“Sure,” I reply, pulling out my phone and turning on the flashlight. Shining it on the floor where I heard the crash earlier, I locate a pile of crumpled satin. “Found it.” I pick it up, my fingers wet on contact. “Uh-oh.”

“What’s wrong?” she asks urgently, grabbing my arm to spin me around. The low light on her naked body has me wishing for another go. “Noah, focus!” she chastises, noting my distraction.

I drag my eyes from her beautiful body and shine the light on the material. “Your dress is covered in… paint.”

She gasps, snatching it out of my hands, voice cracking. “I’m so sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“You got me this gorgeous dress, and it’s ruined,” she says, tone laced with sadness.

“Taking it off you was worth way more than having it on,” I say, smiling at her. Way. More.

“Noah.” She slaps my chest. “I can’t go out there like this! With this tie-dye fail?”

“Just put it on, and we’ll head straight for our room to clean you up,” I offer with images of her in the walk-in shower, my hands in her hair—and other places—flashing in my mind.

“And how will I explain this?” she asks, gesturing towards the sticky black liquid.

I set my phone down, the low light still illuminating the room, and shrug my suit jacket off my shoulders. “You can put this over it.”

“Then your suit will get ruined too.”

“But you won’t feel self-conscious the entire way upstairs.”

“It’s fine.” She sighs, stepping into the stained satin. “It’ll be fine.”

When she has the dress secure, I place the jacket on her shoulders and she shrugs it off. This woman. “Just wear it, baby. Please?”

“I already ruined what I imagine is a very expensive dress, and your suit is Armani.”

“I couldn’t care less about the suit.”

She concedes, surely knowing she’s not winning this fight. I help put her arms through and tug the sides of the jacket, pulling her towards me. Our lips are inches apart, and I smile down at her.

“What?” she asks, her own smile breaking through.

“You look…” I slide my fingers into her hair, angling her mouth towards my own.

“A mess? Ridiculous? So embarrassing you want to leave me in this closet and never come back?”

Like mine.

“Perfect.” I press my lips to hers, slipping my tongue into her mouth to deepen the kiss. Pulling away, I release the dress, and it drops to her ankles. “Let’s go.” I listen at the door before popping my head outside. “Coast is clear.”

We hurry out of the room, shutting the door behind us, and rush down the hallway. I slide my arm around her waist, pulling her close. “What should the next lesson be tonight? Safe shower sex techniques? The multi uses for a detachable shower head? How many orgasms are possible until you pass out?”

“You’re insatiable.” Charlotte giggles as we round the corner to the elevators. I place a kiss in her hair, my hand gripping her waist.

“Well, I take my professor in Sexology role very seriously,” I tell her, eliciting another giggle as we near the elevators.

“Caruso,” I hear and fight the urge to groan.

“Coach Bexley,” I say, turning to him with a smile as he appears to be on his way out the door.

His eyes wander over Charlotte and me, and if he minds our disheveled appearance, he certainly doesn’t let on.

“Hope you both had a nice evening,” he says.

“You too.”

“See you at training Monday,” he says to me, and my stomach sinks. I wanted to break the news to Charlotte myself. I know how much she hated sleeping alone last night. But Porter was right. It’s important to take this job seriously. “I’m glad you’ll be joining us.”

“Looking forward to the extra practice,” I tell him, the picture of poise, while inside I’m reeling. I’ve never dated anyone—or fake dated—while having to worry about football. I have no clue what that’s going to look like or how I’ll balance it. And I definitely can’t risk fucking up my rookie year.

Coach Bexley walks away, and the wait for the elevator feels like hours as Charlotte remains quiet, tugging my jacket tight around her.

“I was going to tell you,” I say.

“It’s fine.” She waves me off.

“He asked me about this extra training, and Coach Porter insisted, and?—”

“Noah,” she says, cutting me off with a smile. “I’m not mad. I get it, you have a job you have to get back to. I didn’t think we could play hot teacher forever.”

The elevator dings, and we step inside. When the doors close, securing us in privacy, I nudge her against the wall, towering over her.

“But Ms. Benson, I have a very long lesson plan, and participation is a significant part of your grade.”

“What’s next on the syllabus?” she asks, staring up at me with a teasing smile.

“Showing me how good you are on your knees.”

She nudges me forward and drops to the floor, staring up at me with beautiful doe eyes. “Yes, Professor.”

1 ? IT: Mi piaci da impazzire - EN - I like you like crazy.

2 ? IT: Non fermarmi mai. Per favore, non mi stoppare mai. - EN: Never stop me.

3 ? IT: “Ah sì? Ti piace quando ti parlo in italiano?” - EN: Oh yes? Do you like it when I speak to you in Italian?