Holy mother of God, I was a sucker for those corner kisses.

I opened my mouth just a little and kissed him back. Our kisses were a little more open-mouth than closed. Five, six, seven, eight times he let me press my lips to his. He let me be the one to kiss him back. Nine, ten, eleven times, right under his lips, on a chin that hadn’t gotten the memo it had been shaved that morning.

His breath rattled in his chest as he pulled back, eyes closed, mouth firm and tight.

My heart ran and ran and ran. Without thinking about it, I put my hand on his chest and felt. I felt the furious pounding beneath all that muscle and bone, just like mine. Excited, racing, sprinting, trying to win like always.

I loved this man.

Sure, it made me an idiot and loving him didn’t necessarily mean anything, especially when I wasn’t positive that Kulti wasn’t on drugs but…

Well hell. Life was about taking chances. Going for what you wanted so that you didn’t get old and have pages of regrets. Sometimes you won and sometimes you lost, as much as I hated it.

His thumbs dug into the soft place between my jaw and ears, placing one more sweet simple kiss on my cheek that I felt under my skin. “Two more games.”

Two more games.

The words had me jerking back. What was I doing? What the hell was I doing in the freaking Pipers parking lot?

Luckily, he decided to take a step back right then. His lips were pink, his eyes glassy. His nostrils flared as he watched me closely. “Let’s go, yes? Every day this gets more difficult.”

I nodded, trying to shake off the stupor that had taken over. Get it together.

We got into the car and I scrubbed my hands over my face before starting it.

Focus. What I needed to do was focus.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Where’s Coach Kulti?” I overheard one of the girls ask in the locker room that evening as we got ready to head to the field for the start of the semi-final game.

“No clue,” someone else answered.

I kept my head down and continued stretching. Besides Gardner, I was the only one who probably had any idea that Kulti was sitting in the stands incognito. He had made the wise decision to ditch the beanie he wore all the time, and instead went for a white Corona cap I’d taken from my dad’s truck years ago.

With a plain T-shirt, jeans and tennis shoes, I felt pretty confident no one would have any idea who he was. When we’d gotten to the stadium, he hadn’t seemed worried about sitting alone, surrounded by people who would more than likely cause a riot if they knew who he was.

We’d taken his car and driver to the stadium at his insistence. He was supposed to be picking up a ticket that someone had gotten for him at the main gate. Right before I began walking toward the player’s entrance he’d asked, “Will your parents be here?”

Like my dad would ever miss a semi-final game. Ha.

Once I made it to the locker room, Gardner looked around at the girls. “Listen up, quick change to the starting roster: Sal, you’re in. Sandy, you’re sitting this one out,” he called out.

I didn’t miss the ugly groan that made its way out of the other player’s mouth. I sure as hell kept my face even, a talent I’d picked up from the master, Kulti. The truth was, I hadn’t cooled down even a little bit.

These assholes were going to bench me for freaking ‘political reasons’. Sure it sucked for Sandy who now wasn’t going to play, but that sure as hell wasn’t my problem. With the exception of the two times I’d been benched and the thing with my ribs and concussion, I’d played every single game from beginning to end. I had earned my spot. Plus, I wasn’t the only forward’s place Sandy could have taken. I had busted my ass to get what I had, on the field and off the field. On top of that, she was only twenty-two. There were a lot of things I’d let myself feel guilty for, but playing in a semi-final game instead of her wasn’t one of them.