Page 5 of The Devoted Dastard

“The new coach is good. He’s making a lot of changes, but things are better. I don’t want them feeling uneasy because I’m …”

“Not adjusting well?”

“Something like that.” He shrugged. I hummed, debating if his cuteness was worth giving him my attention. There was something endearing about the way he scratched the back of his head and I couldn’t help myself. Must be my "watching hot men struggle" kink.

“What’s one thing you’re ‘not’ having trouble adjusting to?” I asked and his eyes snapped to mine, pinched under a furrowed brow.

“What?”

“Well—” I nudged him with my elbow. “You’re clearly not able to talk about this with your team, but maybe you can tell a stranger. And I figure starting with one thing will help with your feelings of overwhelmingness.”

“I’m not—” he started to say, but stopped when I cocked my head. With a sad little laugh, he said, “I don’t have anything to do anymore. I used to work and work and work and now … I’ve got nothing.”

“Ah, so you’re a workaholic in withdrawal?”

“I am not,” he said through a laugh.

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much.” This time when he laughed, it was full bodied. The bar even shook a little as his chest heaved, his breath coming in squeaky waves, a little hiccup sounding after every three laughs. It was pretty damn cute coming from this literal professional athlete.

“Do you need something to do with all your free time?” I asked, resting my elbow on the table as I watched his laughter slow.

“God, yeah. Desperately,” he said, sighing. Then he looked back at me and picked up on my vibe. “Oh. I … I can’t really date with work.”

“Not what I was hinting at, cutie. I don’t date either. But a little distraction, tension relief for one night might be good for you.”

His eyes dropped to my lips and he slowly nodded.

“You don’t even know my name,” he said, voice soft as his eyes dipped further down. I couldn’t decide if I was grateful this was after a teacher work day rather than a regular work day. I wasn’t in my various colorful overalls or covered in marker, so there was that. But instead I was in a baggy shirt and old leggings; and I was still a little too sweaty for my liking. That didn’t seem to bother this guy, though, as his gaze dragged down my body and his eyes turned hungry.

“I bet I could guess.” I grabbed my phone and clicked on the team website, then the roster. Hot guy leaned over, getting in my space for the first time. He smelled like freshly mowed grass.

“That’s cheating,” he said with a chuckle. “How am I supposed to figure out your name?”

“Well …” I dragged out the world as I scrolled through profiles until I found him. “Niall Christenson, I’ll give you a hint, Destin Elementary.”

He quickly whipped out his phone and searched the site, groaning when he reached the staff page. “There aren’t any pictures.”

“Yeah, photos of teachers aren’t as important as photos of sports stars.”

“That’s not true at all,” he huffed, clicking through the menu to the events page. “I’m sure being able to see who their teacher is would make a lot of kids less anxious on their first day.”

“That’s … a good point.” I reached over and tapped on his phone to bring up a photo of my class at field day last year.

“Ms. Walton,” he said softly.

“Mmm, I won’t make you go back to the staff page to find my first name. It’s Leah.”

“Leah.” He looked back at me, blue eyes soft like the ocean behind him. “Wanna get out of here?”

The Good Boy

Niall

Iwas utterly charmed by Leah and her wit and confidence and smile.

Sex was something I missed occasionally, but not enough to exert myself for it when work was already consuming my every waking moment. And even though I’d been free for weeks now, the desire hadn’t really come back. Maybe because I was so stressed about how I was handling the transition or maybe because I didn’t have anyone to flip that switch.

Leah flipped that fucking switch.