I told myself I had to be the stupidest girl on the planet just before I asked, “What did you have in mind?”
His body sagged as if the relief had been overbearing. But then he grinned. “There’s this park on the edge of a river one of my teammates took me to during my freshman year. It’s about an hour away from here. No one would recognize us, and we’d be out in the open where I wouldn’t be tempted into trying anything...untoward.” He lifted his eyebrows and sent me an ornery grin. “So, what do you say? Give me just one day?”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“There's nothing more intimate in life than simply being understood. And understanding someone else.” - Brad Meltzer, The Inner Circle
NOEL
“This place is amazing.”
The awe in Aspen’s voice made me grin across the cab of Ten’s truck as I parked at the edge of the grounds in the visitors’ parking area. “I had a feeling you’d like it.”
A long sloped lawn extended before us before dropping down steeply into the banks of the river. The grass was short and green; patches were beginning to grow, promising new vegetation.
A couple families were already enjoying the day, spreading out picnic blankets or walking their pets, or letting their children chase each other across the wide-open expanse. And beyond that sprawled a strip of small kiosks and vendors, peddling their wares on either side of a cobbled walkway.
“How’d you ever learn about all this?” Aspen asked, opening her door as I opened mine.
“My roommate, Ten, brought me here once. He lives in this area and wanted one of their corn dogs they sell. I think I made fun of him the whole way he dragged me here until we actually made it.” I grinned at her. “But the damn corn dog wasn’t half bad, so I had to shut up.”
She laughed. “So you brought me out here because you were craving a badly processed meat sausage on a stick deep-fat fried in cornmeal batter?”
“Hell no.” Snagging the ball I’d thrown into the backseat before heading to her house this morning, I held it up and twirled it on my finger before catching it. “You, my dear professor, are going to learn how to play football.”
Aspen arched an eyebrow, seemingly interested instead of horrified. “Really? What makes you think I don’t already know how to play?”
Okay, that one caught me off guard. I arched a suspicious eyebrow. “Do you?”
Her lips curved, and they looked so hot with that knowing little twitch tightening them. I had to remind myself again I wasn’t going to touch her today. Nothing sexual. Just friendly bonding. Getting to know each other.
Realizing what that smile meant though, I groaned. “Hell, you do know.”
Her entire face lit up. “I kicked ass in fantasy football last year,” she confessed, sounding rather proud of herself.
I threw back my head and laughed. “Holy shit. I had no idea you actually liked the game. I mean, the way you acted in class, I thought you hated everything to do with football, but...” Then it dawned on me. Her behavior hadn’t had anything to do with her opinion of the sport itself, but with her history with a certain player of the sport. I blew out a breath. “Right. Well, wow. If I’d known you were a fan, I would’ve bugged you into coming to our scrimmage we had a couple weeks back.”
“Don’t worry, I went.”
“So you saw...?” My eyebrows lifted as I pointed at my own chest. She nodded and I had to know. “Well, what’d you think?”
Eyes lighting with flirtation, she strolled around Ten’s truck to meet me on the other side. “I thought you could be the next Rodgers.”
“Shit,” I said, shaking my head. “No way.”
She slipped the ball out of my hand, and I watched her, frankly turned on by her interest in it.
“Hmm.” She practiced holding it different ways before glancing at me. “You know, I just now realized I’ve never actually touched a football before.”
I couldn’t believe it, and yet I could. Shaking my head, I took it back from her. “Well, this calls for a lesson, then.” Reaching for her hand, I started us off toward the grass. “I’m going to teach you everything you need to know about how to throw a ball.”
For the first five minutes, I just talked and demonstrated how she needed to position her shoulders and waist, where to keep her elbow, and how to hold it in her hand. When it was time to show her an actual throw, I spotted a boy about twenty yards away.
“Hey, kid,” I called. “Catch this.” When he immediately nodded and scrambled into position, I wound back my arm and sent him a nice, slow, lob. He caught it without any effort and threw it back. Aspen cheered and clapped for him, telling him what a nice job he’d done.
When I handed the pigskin over to her, she began to look nervous.