Page 1 of Racing Heat

Chapter One

~ CASSIE ~

My lungs burn as I round the corner. It’s June and the full force of the Tampa heat is hitting me hard. I wonder how early I’ll have to wake up to run once we hit July and August. The locals say that’ll be when the humidity is unbearable. Frankly, I can’t imagine it getting much worse.

But running in the heat and humidity will be essential for me. I’m a midfielder for the Tampa Bay Blaze. I run the field, playing offense and defense. I’m one of those players who could have easily run a marathon by the time the final whistle is blown. I barely ever get subbed out.

“Just what do you think you’re doing out here?” an English accent drawls behind me, slightly winded.

I slow to a stop and turn around to see Jase Ford.

“I had no idea goalies could actually run,” I tease him. He might not still be a goalie for Manchester United, but he’s a goalie coach. And from my experience, if the position doesn’t call for running, the coaches aren’t going to do it.

“Funny.” Jase stands there staring at me. He blinks once, twice, and a third time.

I almost want to ask him what’s going through his mind right now, but I don’t. His eyes travel down my white tank top andneon yellow running shorts. They spend longer on my legs than the rest of me.

“Every time I see you out there on that pitch,” he says, “all I think about is how you’ve got some serious legs for someone who’s so short.”

I flush and shake my head, laughing. “Okay.”

“What are you doing out here?” Jase straightens to his six-plus-feet form and crosses his strong arms over his chest, putting the muscles in his arms and chest on full display.

My heart stutters for a moment, and I have to breathe in and out, once, twice, and a third time before I trust my own voice.

“What does it look like?” I shoot him a wry smile, trying my best to play it cool. It’s not an easy task. I’ve seen Jase up close and personal at practice. He’s an attractive man—there’s no denying that. But seeing him here like this, all sweaty and disheveled, it’s turning on my already sex-starved brain.

It’s been entirely too long since I’ve felt the weight of a man on top of me. Moving to a new city and getting settled here in Tampa has made it venture into way-too-long territory. BOB hasn’t really been cutting it, and sex of convenience isn’t as easy to find here as it was in Portland. I chalk it up to the perks of being a college kid.

“Looks like you’re running on what is supposed to be your off day.” Jase’s tone is stern. A bit intimidating.

He comes closer, and his oaky scent mixed with sweat drifts over to me. I want to step back, but I like him like this. In my space.

“I needed to clear my head a bit,” I admit sheepishly. “The road does that for me.”

“Not worried about injury?”

“I’ll be good. I’ve always done this.”

“Done what?”

I sigh. “Run on the off days. Since college. It’s kind of my thing.”

“Disobeying coaches’ orders is kind of your thing, huh?” he teases me. It’s the first time the stern facade has dropped, and he actually looks friendly.

I shrug. “Not really trying to disobey. Just trying to keep my head clear.”

Silence stretches between us. It’s awkward and I have no idea where to look. So, I study my feet. My running shoes are shining bright in the Tampa sun.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks me. “I could use someone to keep me on pace.”

“Sure, why not,” I reply. “I’m going to head down this way a bit.” I point to the end of the pier. “It’s nice to finish up here by the pier. It’s calming looking out over the ocean.”

He nods. “Sounds like a plan.”

We run in silence. I’m the type of runner who can talk when she’s running, but not everyone likes to. Normally, I would have music blaring in my ears, making me push harder and harder. But it feels rude to do that with him right beside me.

“You’re good at keeping pace,” I compliment him.