Page 32 of Hometown Halftime

Jenna whistles. “Kinsey, you did not tell us Riley looked like that.”

“Who cares if he’s hot?” I snap, then wince because, okay, that was a reveal. “He’s a nice guy and a good coach.”

They all grin in a way that makes me want to walk out the door of this bar and directly into traffic.

Lindsey nudges me with her knee. “You two looked pretty cozy out there.”

My drink goes down the wrong pipe. I cough until my eyes water.

“No, we didn't. He was just—it was a dance. People dance.”

“People dance,” Jenna says calmly, “but they don’t always look like that while they’re doing it.”

I glare at her as she smiles sweetly, ever the eternal instigator.

“You’re all reading into nothing,” I insist, scanning the bar for a distraction. “It was fine. It was casual. I’m his boss.”

“You’re his coworker. You don’t sign his paychecks,” Jenna counters.

“You let him put his hand on your waist.”

“That’s where hands go during slow dances!”

“Kinsey,” Linsey says gently, “you were smiling and your crotches were touching.”

I scrub my hand over my face. “I can’t do this.”

“Do what?” Lily asks.

“This—this analyzing crotch-bumping thing.” I grab a fry off Jenna’s plate and point it at them like a weapon. “He’s twenty-two.”

“So?” three voices say at once.

“So, I’m not.” I clean my hands on a bar napkin. “I’m twenty-nine.”

Jenna snorts. “A smokin’ hot twenty-nine. Besides, age doesn’t matter.”

I scoff. “It would in Cedar Falls.”

Lindsey’s eyes light up with mischief. “Well, you aren’t in Cedar Falls right now, are you?”

I take another drink and let my eyes drift across the bar. Riley’s back with his friends now, holding a beer, super casual. Unlike me, with the butterflies that currently fill my stomach.

Nope. Nope-nope-nope. This is exactly the line I cannot cross. Coaching is already unfamiliar territory. The last thing I need is to develop a wildly inconvenient crush on the person I’m supposed to lead this team with.

“Kinsey,” Claire says softly, “you know you’re allowed to like someone, right?”

My mouth goes dry. I might be allowed to, but that doesn’t mean I should do it.

“I’m going to get some air,” I say, sliding off the stool and walking toward the patio before they can stop me.

Outside, the night is cooler than I expected, the autumn chill wrapping around me. My heart hasn’t quite settled back to normal. My skin still remembers the heat of his hand against my waist. The faint scrape of stubble against my cheek when he leaned in to hear me better. The way his chest felt under my palm.

I press a hand to my sternum because the unexpected image in my mind of that stubble against the inside of my thighs is starting to give me heartburn.

It would be one thing if I were just fighting against my attraction to Riley’s looks. Lots of men are hot and it doesn’t affect me. But I’m fighting a war on two fronts because Riley is sweet, and kind too.

It’s ridiculous reacting like this to one dance. One slow, close, teasing dance. I blow out a breath that fogs in the air. I’ve been single for too long, maybe I just need to get laid.