Page 1 of Racing Heat (The Forbidden Heat #2)

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 and neon 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.

He looks over at me, and I’m struck by just how beautiful he is. He’s got wide shoulders and what looks like an amazing body under his tight running shirt and shorts. The sweat is running down the sides of his face, and his brown hair is becoming damp with it. Damn, he looks so good right now.

“You good?” he asks me.

Shit. I must have been staring at him for too long.

“Y-yeah, sorry,” I stutter, just as my foot gets caught on an imperfection in the boardwalk and I fall forward.

Strong hands grab ahold of my waist, and I let out a little yelp.

He rights me before I can fall and hit the harsh wood of the boardwalk, keeping his hands on my waist. Our bodies are brushing against each other, and I get a whiff of the sweet smell of his sweat and the musky scent of what is left of his cologne.

“Thanks,” I stammer out. He hasn’t moved yet, so I smile at him. “I think I’m good. I don’t think I’ll fall again.”

Jase chuckles. “Are you sure? You kind of looked like Bambi on brand new legs there for a moment.”

“Funny,” I deadpan.

We walk the rest of the way to the pier. I’m not sure why, but neither one of us begins running again. I decide that after almost falling, it’s probably best to walk it off for a bit. I’ve gotten a good workout in, and as Jase pointed out, this is supposed to be my day off.

“How are you finding living here in the US?” I ask him.

He sighs. “It’s okay. The last six months, all I’ve been doing is adjusting to how different it feels than in Manchester. The temperature is the biggest change I’ve had to get used to. It’s not this hot there, and the humidity is killing me.”

I nod. “I know what you mean. I used to play in Portland. Summers were never like this.” I lean forward on the rail of the pier, looking out at the crystal-blue water. “But views like this sure do make it better, huh?”

He inhales the ocean air like he’s tasting it. “Yeah, it’s peaceful here. I like it.”

“It’s why I run here so much. Gives me some perspective. Helps me clear my head and also reminds me that I’m living in an actual paradise.”

“A hot-as-hell paradise.”

“According to August, you get used to it,” I tell him.

“So, he says.” His tone wavers a bit. He certainly doesn’t sound sure about that.

“It’s nice that you and Danny hang out with him. I get the feeling friends aren’t necessarily easy to come by for him,” I say in an effort to keep conversation flowing.

“I like August. He’s doing great things with the team. He just hasn’t quite lost that frat boy image yet. But I’m sure he’ll get there.”

“Were you like that ever? Is that just the way men are?”

“Some men, yeah. But me? Nah. I was always very serious. I played in college and then I was drafted to Manchester United. I didn’t really want the entanglement of a relationship. But when I had it, it was fine. Just not as big of a need as it is for him.”

“Did you leave someone back in Manchester?” I ask him. The question slips out before I can stop it. “You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to.”

“Are you interviewing me for something, Cassie Simmons?”

I like the way he says my name. My full name.

That accent stirs something inside me. Usually, I’m not a girl who gets all riled up at a nice body and an accent, but with him…

damn. There’s something about him. I hadn’t noticed it before.

Jase has been around our particular friend group since before Danny and Mac went public with their relationship.

Mackenzie Dixon—Mac—is my best friend. We came to Tampa together from Portland, where we were teammates and roommates all four years.

Mac shocked us all by sneaking around with Danny Taylor, the reporter who was assigned to interview her for team publicity.

He lost his job, but he got to keep her, so I think it all worked out.

This has changed up our social group a bit, bringing in more guys to our girl group—Jase being one of them.

We haven’t talked much before, so I guess I never really noticed him.

Not like this.

“Jase Ford, I am merely trying to make conversation with you.”

“Ah, I see.” He sighs and turns to face me. “No one who would care that I’m here in Tampa while they are in Manchester. I’m free to do whatever I want.”

I hear the innuendo in his words. Or maybe I’m just hoping one was there.

“What about you?” he asks me. “Is there someone you left back in Portland?”

“Nope. No one who would care that I’m standing here on a pier with you right now.” I bite my lip at the boldness of my comment.

“Well, that is certainly good to know. We wouldn’t want to make anyone jealous of the coach who shouldn’t be running or standing here talking to you.”

I laugh. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that you couldn’t run.”

“I know you didn’t. I just wanted to tease you a bit.”

We fall into a comfortable silence. I feel his eyes on me, and I turn.

“You should really be looking out at the beach,” I tell him. “It’s a much prettier view.”

“If you say so,” he replies. He looks out at the sea for a moment before looking back at me. “Am I making you uncomfortable by watching you?”

I shake my head. “Nah, I’m good. This is totally normal for me. You have no idea how many Englishmen come and stare at me during my runs.”

He laughs but keeps watching.

“Stalker,” I singsong out.

“I’m not a stalker. I promise you. I had no idea you were out here running.”

I know he didn’t. But I kind of like that we both find solace in running by the ocean. The salt air calms my nerves and makes me feel whole again.

“It’s okay. I know,” I tell him. “It’s so nice out here.”

He nods. “How are finding your time with the Blaze? Are you enjoying the team trainings? August has put together a really nice facility for us, but I’m curious what you all think of it.”

“Since Mac’s the captain, shouldn’t you be asking her that question?”

“I’m asking you.”

Jase’s words cause my cheeks to flush, and I laugh nervously.

“You have a great laugh.” He turns and looks out at the sea.

“Thanks,” I say lamely.

“This is nice, being here with you like this. But I should get going, Cassie. And you might want to get out of the sun. Make sure you hydrate or something.”

I nod as he backs away slowly.

“Maybe don’t run back,” he suggests. “Because I won’t be here to catch you should you fall again.”

“Sure thing, Jase. See ya later,” I call after him.

“I think we’ll be at The Backwoods tonight. You coming?”

“Yep, I’ll be there.”

“Good,” he says with a nod.

“Great,” I reply, flushing under the scrutiny of his stare.

He walks away and I’m left thinking of what a weird but nice interaction that was. Maybe I just need to get laid or something, but I could have sworn he kept checking me out. And why do I hope that he was? And that he’d do it again?

Don’t go there, Cas. That’s not a good idea.

Seeing the pier is getting crowded, I decide to make my way back to my Jeep. It’s time to get out of this heat. It’s making me think about things I shouldn’t be.