“Me?” My brows wrinkled. “You think I am the one complicating this.”
“I guess I deserve that,” Adalyn murmured, reaching for her bag. Something stirred in my gut at the slight tone of defeat in her voice. She pulled out a second binder. This one was red. “Saturday’s game is against the Grovesville Bears.”
Once more, I was more than a little impressed by the way she pushed through what I threw at her. I didn’t think she deserved it, but I still didn’t like that she was here, in Green Oak, sucking me into her vortex. She moved to her bag again and pulled out a Post-it stack. I tilted my head. “What do you have in there, a print shop?”
“Close,” she said dryly. “I went ahead and researched every team and town playing the Six Hills,” she added, scribbling something on a sticky note and plastering it to one of the pages inside the binder. “There wasn’t much but everything I found is here.” She looked up and met my gaze. “It would be great if you could go through what’s in here about the Grovesville Bears before our meeting on Wednesday. You have about a day and a half. I’ve just marked it for you.”
I stared at her, that set of brown eyes waiting, expecting a confirmation or a promise that I would, if I had to guess. But with her hair up in a tight bun, it was hard not to get distracted by all that weary tiredness clinging to her features.
The question toppled off my lips, “Are you getting any sleep on the air mattress?”
Her eyelids swept up and down a couple of times. Slowly. She shook her head. “This Saturday is a home game for the Green Warriors,” she said. “Depending on the outcome, I’ll pitch you my press angles. But first I need to see how well the Green Warriors can do.”
My whole body went alert at the mention of press.
Adalyn must have seen that, because she explained, “My focus is on the girls and the success story I’m here to make happen.” She made a careful pause. “Your focus should be on getting them the points that land them in the final.” Another moment of hesitation. “You win the games and I’ll keep you out of my angle. That’s all I ask.”
That was all she asked? As if she hadn’t asked enough already.
And yet… There was that moment of hesitation. It told me she was more bark than bite.
The red binder was pushed against my chest. I didn’t take it.
“Okay,” she murmured, standing up suddenly. Thanks to the difference in height of the stand she was on, her chest lined up with my gaze. “Don’t take the binder, then,” she continued, her breasts rising and falling with a deep breath. My jaw clamped down at the trail of memories triggered by that sight. Sunday. Yoga. My hands on her. Softness and warmth under my fingers. My palm on that exact spot on her chest as she’d struggled for air. Her hand flew to one of the tiny buttons of her blouse, returning me to the present. “I guess we should wrap up here.”
“Please,” I breathed out, my gaze locked on the button as she fumbled with it.
Neither of us made the attempt to leave.
“Oh,” Adalyn started, her voice distracted and the pad of her thumb toggling with the tiny thing, twisting it side to side. “Have you seen the uniforms, by the way? Taking care of the new ones is up on my priority list, but I don’t think they’ll be ready for the game this week.” A pause. Her thumb stopped. I felt my Adam’s apple bob. “Josie said we were covered for now, whatever that means, but something tells me we should check them before Saturday.”
Adalyn’s hand dropped to her side, leaving that one button crooked to one side. She inhaled deeply and her chest swayed again, testing the resistance of the slit. An unwarranted thought popped up in my head. What kind of underwear did a woman like Adalyn Reyes hide under such an adept and prim façade? Did she wear lingerie or was her underwear just as proper and decorous as the outer shell?
My gaze dipped down, as if trying to discern the lines through all that thin and soft-looking fabric and getting a little lost on the dip of her curves. Breasts. Waist. I’d had my hands there, on that exact spot on her waist. I knew how soft—
“Cameron?”
I glanced up, returning my eyes to her face.
Jesus fuck.
What in God’s name?
“I haven’t seen the uniforms,” I told her. “We can ask Josie about them tomorrow.”
“But I just said—”
“I’d like to head home. Rest.” It was obvious I needed a fucking night of sleep to clear my head.
“If we must,” she said, starting to gather her things together. “Let’s continue this tomorrow. There’s so much on my to-do list that we haven’t even broached.”
Of course there was. “No wonder they shipped you off here,” I heard myself mutter under my breath.
Adalyn’s expression morphed at my words. There was a new emotion there now. One that made my goddamn stomach shift. She pressed everything she’d been holding in her arms against her chest with a jerky frustrated motion and turned her body to the side. Out of some strange and unexpected urge to explain myself I moved, too, pushing her to walk around me to climb down the stand.
I huffed at her, and she huffed at me right back.
“Adalyn—”
But Adalyn was intent on avoiding me and getting away from me as soon as possible. Thing was, those goddamn shoes of hers didn’t seem to aid in her quest, because one second, she was upright and the next, she was plummeting down.
Cursing under my breath, I lunged for her. Arms outstretched, I placed my body so I could intercept her now free fall. She crashed against my chest with a little yelp, and all I could do was secure her against me and say, “I got you.” I shifted my arms, my palms clasping her sides. “You’re okay.”
Adalyn murmured something in response, but I was too distracted by the wave of relief coursing through me to know what. Her scent was also sneaking into my lungs, the simple—but definitely not plain—way she smelled overpowering me. I’d only caught hints of it during yoga. But now it was all I could smell. It was clean, fresh, and so fucking sweet it felt like a blow to my face. Like cotton left in the sun in a lavender field.
Fuck. I was really losing it.
“I’m fine,” I heard her say more clearly. “I think you can let go of me.”
My throat worked, swallowing hard before I could release her. I stepped back, feeling my hands prickling when they fell to my sides. I flexed them. Then I met her gaze, finding the brown in her eyes dazed. Her cheeks flushed.
“Those fucking heels,” I said, hearing the harshness in my voice. Her brows wrinkled. “You’re going to break your bloody neck one of these goddamn days.”
Adalyn blinked a few times, then shook her head. The dazed look disappeared from her face. “Do you really need to talk like such a walking stereotype?” She lowered her voice in what had to be an attempt at imitating my tone. “Those bloody heels, mate. Bollocks, innit? I’m chuffed to bits! Fancy a cuppa?” A huff left her. “If you tell me you stop your day at five to have tea, and keep a tweed flat cap in a drawer somewhere, I swear I’m going to lose my ever-loving mind.”
I stared at her.
For a long time. Then, I barked out a laugh.