“Come on, Lolli,” Mia whines as we exit the field gates. “Come to the party with us.” She links her arms with Alyssa and Ashley, who are wearing matching grins, both nodding at Mia’s invite.

“Not tonight, Meems.” I smile and catch her keys when she tosses them to me. “Next weekend.” I wink.

“Yeah, yeah.” She rolls her eyes and they walk off to hitch a ride on the party train.

“Bye, Lolli,” the twins say in unison and I wave in return.

Once I get home, I strip down to my chones, throw on an old Nickelback t-shirt and head into the kitchen to make something to eat.

I scan the fridge.

Tacos it is.

I throw chopped chicken in a pan, heat the oil for the tortillas, and grab the fixings from the fridge. I set them on the bar, frowning when the doorbell rings. After a quick toss to the chicken, I run to answer it.

When I swing it open, I come face to face with Nate.

“Uh, hey.”

His eyes narrow and he nudges me inside, closing the door behind him.

“Wha-”

“You can’t answer the door in a t-shirt,” he chastises me. “I could have been a murderer or something.”

I roll my eyes and walk back into the kitchen. “Know of many murderers in Alrick, Handsome?” I shoot him a grin over my shoulder. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“That’s not the point.” He ignores my question. “Look out the window or, better yet, put pants on before you answer your door. For anyone.”

He’s still frowning.

“Fine. If it bothers you, I’ll put pants on.” I turn to face him, jutting my hip out. “Here,” I hold the spatula out. “Come stir and I’ll go get dressed.”

He smirks, edging toward me. “I said, before you open the door.” He steps in front of me, so I have to tilt my head back to look in his dark brown eyes.

“I’m already inside,” he whispers, and my dirty mind takes flight. “No need for pants now.” He winks, taking the spatula out of my hand.

It just got real warm in here.

Suddenly in need of air, I lean over the sink and push open the window. When I drop back down to my feet, I look at Nate, who’s frozen in place, spatula midair, eyes zoned in on my lower half.

With a smirk, I walk right up to him and snatch the spatula back.

He shakes off his dazed expression and hops up on the counter to my right.

The oil is now good to go, so I start crisping the tortillas.

“Tacos?”

“Yes. You hungry?” I smile up at him.

“Starving,” he admits.

“You come over here expecting me to feed you?” I raise a brow.

He holds my gaze for a few seconds, then says, “Just wanted to see you.”

I laugh at that. “Man, it’s no wonder girls just hand it over.” I pull a cutting board out of the cabinet behind us, rushing back to make sure the tortillas don’t burn. “You’re a smooth talker.”

He huffs and hops down. “That wasn’t a line.”

“Make yourself useful and cut the veggies.”

He chuckles and walks to the other side of the kitchen to start.

“You know how?” I ask him, not bothering to turn around.

“I can cut lettuce, Kalani.”

I bite back a grin. “Just checking.”

Once everything is cooked and ready to go, we decide to eat in the living room. Setting everything up on the coffee table, I pop in a movie and we settle in on the floor.

“Rookie of the Year?” He quirks a brow, amused.

I nod and take a bite of my taco. “Love me some Rowengartner.”

He laughs and wipes his mouth with a napkin. “You know, for the football girl you seem to be, you sure have a thing for baseball movies.” He reaches for another taco shell.

My face pinches for the shortest of seconds, and I wait for my body to tense, but it doesn’t happen. I look up at Nate and see he’s focused on eating, his eyes flicking back and forth from the TV to his food. He’s not expecting an explanation, or anything for that matter.

I’m not sure what propels me to say it, but it happens anyway. “Football was a huge part of my life growing up.” Cutting a quick glance at Nate, I find him now hanging on every word.

Clearing my throat, I continue, “My grandpa was a coach. After a loss or a shit day of practice, he said he needed to clear his mind so he could go into the next day with a clean slate and build off that.” I pick at my napkin. “So, when he needed to find a new strategy or make adjustments that weren’t obvious to him, we’d watch baseball movies. Rid the house of football altogether.” I shrug and take a drink of my water, then finally look over at Nate.

He gives me a soft smile, his eyes earnest. “That’s a good idea. I never would have thought of that.”

“Yeah.” I hop up onto the couch and he follows. “It worked for him.”

Grabbing my hand, he traces my fingers with his and I let him. “Did you live with him? Your grandpa?”

“He, uh,” I take a deep breath, “stayed with me a lot, but his job had him on the road, so it was never completely permanent. At least, not for long.”

“You don’t talk about your family much, do you?” His voice is cautious.

I look up, finding he’s staring at our hands in fascination.

“Never,” I whisper, a crease forming in my brow at his perceptiveness.

Now he looks at me. “Why did you tell me?”

I swallow and look away, but he doesn’t allow that. He places his hand on my chin and turns my face back to his. He stares at me, giving a small tip of his chin.

“I have no idea,” I breathe.

His gaze flicks from my eyes to my mouth and back. “Kalani...”

I scurry off the couch.

“Are you full?” My voice is tight and obviously shaking, but I don’t care. It’s self-preservation at this point. Something about Nate throws me off my game and my defense slips. And I’m a defense girl.

“Kalani.” His voice sounds pained and that has me ready to flash.

A major factor as to why I don’t talk about things is because I can’t stand pity. I don’t need it and I don’t want it.

However, when I flip around to give him a mouthful, my eyes widen.

His eyes are lasered in on my thighs, his chest heaving, causing my breathing to speed up.

His gaze slowly rakes up my body, his perfect teeth sinking into his lower lip as those hungry eyes meet mine.

Oh lordy, no...

I am far too exposed for this Nate to come out and play.

With a strangled breath, I tell him, “You should go.”

His eyes narrow in challenge; a hint of a smirk he doesn’t dare let slip on his lips.

He sees it, damn it. He knows the last thing on my mind is him leaving, what with my body trembling, nipples poking out to say ‘hey’, and boobs bouncing around because I’m breathing so fast.

Yeah, fucker. You get me going.

He takes a step closer.

I take a step back.

“You want me to go?” he whispers. I think. That, or my blood is pumping at a dangerous rate because I swear his voice is silky, sexy smooth. The kind of voice that makes you stop in your tracks and rethink everything.

“I’ll go,” he rasps.

Oh, thank God…

“If,” he adds quickly when he sees my relief.

Now the bastard smirks.

“Quid pro quo, how nice of you,” I deadpan, causing him to laugh.

“Make me breakfast Sunday and I’ll go.”

“Deal,” I don’t hesitate, just stomp to the door. Anything to get him out of here.

He chuckles and smacks my ass on his way out. “Night, Gorgeous.”

Even though I roll my eyes, there’s a small smile on my lips. “Night, Handsome.”