“Power comes from here.” He squeezed my arms with his. “Tighten your core, that’ll keep you stable.”
Stable. I was starting to come unhinged. And the core part of me that tightened wasn’t my damn abs.
“Hold the ball. Dribble a couple of times and then shoot.”
Boone stepped back and I almost crumpled into a pile. The man was such a powerful force. Once again the universe proved the joke was on me. I’d asked him to tone down the intensity. But this playful, helpful, goddamn sweet side? A hundred times worse. As I stood there, clutching a ball, I understood that I had no defense against this man. None. A good offense wasn’t even a good defense.
“Concentrate, Sierra. You can do this,” he said in a “yay team!” pep rally kind of voice that I never in a million years imagined I’d hear from Brooding Boone West.
That was the last straw.
I whirled around and whipped the ball at him. “Who are you?”
When he peered over his shoulder with a smirk, all cute-like, I wanted to punch him. Seriously. How was I supposed to resist this?
You can’t. More to the point: You don’t want to.
“What is going on with you?” he demanded.
“I don’t know!”
“Well, who am I supposed to ask?”
I might’ve snarled at him before I stomped into the yard where it was dark and I couldn’t see his chest dripping with sweat, or hear that rough voice in my ear, or feel his hard body pressed behind mine or wonder why I was even fighting this.
He shuffled across the grass and stopped behind me, so close his exhalations drifted across my hair. He said one word. “Talk.”
“I don’t know what—”
“Look at me, Sierra. Talk to me. Not into the damn air.”
I faced him. “Fine. I want to talk about new rules.”
“New rules. When did we have old rules?”
“Before. Unspoken ones.”
Boone studied me. “What the fuck are unspoken rules?”
“You know. Before. When we were friends. We hung out. We ripped on each other’s choice of music. We argued about TV shows. We heckled each other’s favorite movies from the 80s—”
“Again with all the negativity, McKay,” he said with annoyance. “We had some of the same favorite movies like Top Gun, The Princess Bride and The Terminator. But I’ll never understand what you saw in Dirty Dancing because that one is just plain stupid.”
“You want to talk stupid? How about Blade Runner?” I shot back. “This is what I’m talking about! You complained when it was my turn to pick a movie and I acted like you were a grumpy pain in the ass. You pretended not to notice that I had a massive crush on you.” I took a breath. “Those rules.”
“Those weren’t rules,” he scoffed. “But whatever. New rule.” He bestowed that dangerously devilish grin. “No rules.”
I put my hand on his chest to push him back. “Stop being cute!”
Just like that, he did.
Boone flattened his palm over my hand on his chest. He dropped his other hand to my hip, spreading his fingers out and squeezing my flesh; the erotic intimacy nearly liquefied my bones. Then he upped the ante and pressed his warm, firm lips to the base of my jaw. “Truth between us, Sierra. I’m not the cute couple guy. I’ll always be intense. Especially when it comes to this. Especially when it comes to you. I’ve wanted you for too fucking long to pretend it’ll be anything less between us.”
I slid my hand across his chest to feel the increased pounding of his heart and felt my pulse race in response. “It’s always been like this. I didn’t imagine it, did I?”
“No, baby. You didn’t.”
The interruption from Kyler calling out our names was probably for the best.
Boone stepped back. He brought my palm to his mouth for a soft kiss. “We’ll pick this up later.”
Later tonight? Later this week? When?
By the smirk on his face, he knew exactly how much he’d flustered me.
Not with the admission of the need between us, but that he hadn’t indicated a time when we’d have another chance to act on it.
Ky had done me a solid, interrupting at that moment.
I didn’t have much willpower when it came to Sierra, probably because I’d had titanium-coated resolve during our friendship before and things were different now.
Very different. She’s the one who’s holding back, not me.
I sent her a sideways glance. She’d wrapped her arms around herself as if she was cold. Thankfully I’d slipped my shirt back on before I’d followed her across the yard, or this might look more like an interrupted hookup.
“What have you two been doing?” Kyler demanded. “It’s almost halftime and you haven’t watched any of the game.”
“Gimme a break. I was cooped up inside all day. We’ve been out here shooting hoops.” I pointed to the basketball by the goalpost. “Why?”
“I saw the basketball. I just didn’t know where you guys had disappeared to.”
“Sierra thought she saw a kitten run across the yard and we went to check it out.”
She snorted beside me.
“Are you coming in to watch the second half?”
“Who’s ahead?”
Unbreak My Heart (Rough Riders Legacy #1)
Lorelei James's books
- All Jacked Up (Rough Riders #8)
- Branded as Trouble (Rough Riders #6)
- Chasin' Eight (Rough Riders #11)
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- Raising Kane (Rough Riders #9)
- Rough, Raw, and Ready (Rough Riders #5)
- Shoulda Been a Cowboy (Rough Riders #7)
- Slow Ride
- Strong, Silent Type (Rough Riders #6.5)
- Cowboy Casanova (Rough Riders #12)
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