When I handed the pigskin over to her, she began to look nervous.
“I feel ridiculous,” she admitted when I stood behind her and basically got her into position.
I wiggled my eyebrows. “Trust me. You look hot.” I was very glad I’d only let her put on a pair of shoes and a bra along with what she was already wearing before I’d dragged her out of the house this morning because her outfit was casual and comfortable and perfect for both our practice and my view. The ensemble broadcasted the best features of who she really was.
With a laugh, she jabbed her elbow back into my gut. “I’m probably going to throw like a girl.”
“You are a girl, so who cares?” Satisfied with how she was set up, I took a step back and let her throw to the kid. He had to run and jump for it, but he caught it with a happy shout. “Not bad,” I said, nodding my approval.
She turned to send me a skeptical glance, but I just grinned at her. She totally threw like a girl. “Want to play now?” I asked.
Our catcher and a couple of his friends were up for a game of touch ball. And they didn’t seem to mind letting the “girl” in on the fun. Actually, I think they all grew crushes on her within the first five minutes. She was just so fun about the whole thing. She laughed at her own mistakes, and playfully bantered with her opponents whenever we lined up before a snap, telling them she was going to take them down. And fuck, she was adorable to watch whenever she got the ball. She’d laugh as she dodged away from someone. I’d never in my life seen someone laugh while playing football before.
It was a little impossible to believe she was the same strict, no-nonsense, straitlaced woman who taught my literature class. But when Aspen Kavanagh loosened up, she loosened up.
By late afternoon, the kids had to leave and I was starving. So was she. Covering her stomach when it let out a hearty growl, she said, “Where’s this corn dog stand you were raving about again?”
Our exertions had left a rosy glow on her cheeks. And her eyes...damn, her green eyes were alive and glittering. I think I could’ve stared at her all day, just like that.
“What?” she asked, sending me an odd glance as she took down the ponytail she’d put her hair up in earlier when we’d started the game. As she finger combed the mass and let it spill down her back, I shook my head. Who was this woman, and how had I gotten lucky enough to get her for an entire day?
No one would believe me it I tried to tell them Dr. Kavanagh ate corn dogs, and finger combed her hair, and flirted with a bunch of preteen boys before sticking her tongue out at them after making a touchdown. But I was glad they’d never suspected. I was glad I had her all to myself.
“Nothing,” I murmured, reaching out to take her hand. “Let’s find that stand.”
After buying six corn dogs between the two of us, we found an empty picnic bench and sat across from each other as we ate. I liked seeing her appetite. She didn’t seem shy about eating in front of me, or ordering two sticks. And the way her lips puckered when she took a dog between her teeth was, well, I just couldn’t watch much of that. My head was already in a place it didn’t need to go. But even after I glanced away, I was still keyed up and aching to touch her.
“You know,” she said, thoughtfully, as she polished off her first corn dog and started on the next. “I don’t think I know what your major is.”
I glanced over. “Business management. Why?”
Her eyebrows lifted. With her mouth full, she muffled out the word, “Really?”
I shrugged and tossed one of my empty sticks toward a nearby trashcan, sinking it. “Well, you know, I’m not good at English. And math and science aren’t my thing either. History’s never interested me, but I’m decent in social situations, and I really like leading the team on the field. They listen to me, and I don’t know, kind of look up to me. That was one thing I know I can do, so I stuck to that in case, you know, the NFL doesn’t want me.”
“But you really do like football, don’t you.” She said it more as a statement than a question, as if she was just then realizing the answer.
“Of course. Why would I play if I hated it?”
“I don’t know.” One side of her shoulders lifted. “You just...after that day in my office when you said it was about desperation, I didn’t think it was what you loved more than anything in the world.”
“It’s...” Fuck, how did I explain this? “I don’t know. Getting into football in high school is what finally earned me the respect of some of my classmates. My natural talent gave me this rush that was...addictive. I love the game and crave that split second you have to think and react, strategize what the best play for that moment is before five hundred pounds of the defensive line tackles you. I like learning more of the tricks of the trade since I came to Ellamore, but...there’s a lot more pressure now. A lot more on the line. It’s not just fun anymore. Now, it’s everything, which takes out a little of the pleasure. But, yeah, to answer your question, I still like it. I love it.”
Aspen nodded, letting me know she understood. “If you could do or be anything in the world, without any consequences or worries, what would you do?”
The first thing that popped into my mind was her. I’d be with her. But I knew she meant occupation-wise. I shrugged. “Don’t know. I can’t really think of anything I like more than football.”
“Would you teach it to others if you couldn’t play anymore? You did
really well with those boys today. I think you’d make a great coach.”
“Huh.” I hadn’t thought about that before. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”
Her back straightened as she preened. “I know. But seriously, you’re smart enough to do anything you want. I just wanted to make sure football was what you loved most.”
I blinked and shook my head. “Did you just call me...smart?” Someone color me shocked.
She furrowed her brow. “Of course you’re smart. I always knew that. It takes a mad set of brains to always say the exact thing in class you know will tick me off the most.”