Beauty and the Baller

I look around at the . . . storage closet. It’s shadowy and small, about ten feet by ten, with shelves stacked with paper towels, hand sanitizer, pencils, pens, paper . . . “Nice office. Where do I put my desk, Coach?”

“It’s Ronan when we’re alone,” he says gruffly.

“Is this going to work between us or not?”

“Nova. Are you okay?”

His hands land on my shoulders as his gaze searches my face intently. His thumbs stroke my tense muscles, but I don’t think he’s aware of it. Sparks zing over my skin, goose bumps rising where he touches me, and I will them to disappear. This isn’t sexual. He’s truly worried about me.

Carefully banked emotion rears its head, and I swallow, blinking back the tears that have been hiding under the surface since I saw Andrew.

“I—I knew it was coming. I just . . .” Kinda flaked.

“I’m sorry for it.”

“Thank you for getting me out of there. Next time will be better.”

“Sure.” He drops his hands, almost reluctantly, then gives me his profile, messing with his hat. Realization dawns. The hat and collar pulling is his tic when he’s unsure. I saw him do it at his party, then on my porch and at the bookstore. Those scars.

“I wish you’d look at me.”

He starts at my frank words, then turns to take me in. “Okay.”

“I need this job,” I say softly. “I’ve been foisted on you, and maybe it is unfair, but there’s Sabine and the house and my school loans . . .” I bite my lip. “I’m sorry. We both know Lois got me this job.”

He leans against the door, and I do the same, our eyes holding. The sound of students out in the hall fades as the silence builds between us, but it’s not uncomfortable. We seem to have created our own little bubble.

“I see,” he murmurs as he searches my face. “Money troubles.”

I nod. “I gave my word to Mama that if anything happened to her, I’d do the best for my sister. And when I give my word, I mean it. Honor and loyalty are important to me. We don’t have any other family close by, and I can’t take her back to New York. This is her home.”

After the moments stretch, I ask, “What are you thinking?”

A deep exhale comes from his chest. “I’m thinking about a lot of things. We’re going to have to take them bit by bit. First is that kiss.”

I feel color rising on my cheeks. “What about it?”

His voice grows husky. “It’s kept me awake at night.”

My skin hums with electricity. “Oh.”

He dips his head, breaking our gaze. “With that aside . . . I have a plan—or a proposal, whatever.”

“What is it?”

His head rises. He gives me a long look, pausing at my sparkly shoes. His face softens as a huff comes from his chest. “You are something in that outfit. I like the mascot colors.”

“I like fashion. You’ve never seen me dressed up.”

His lips twitch. Ah, that’s his amused tic. “Haven’t I?”

“What do you mean?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.

“Nothing.” He takes a step closer to me, until I can smell his cologne, something with hints of wood and leather. “Here’s a quote for you: ‘In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity.’ Sun Tzu. Keep that in mind.”

“Okay.” My shoulders straighten. Here comes the strengths-and-weaknesses interview . . .

“First, here are the facts. You just saw Andrew, and based on your reaction, it’s going to be hard for you, yes? You’ll have to see him at faculty meetings, in the hallway, at lunch . . .”

I wince.

He nods. “My proposal is . . . since we’ll be spending time together, we help each other out. I want Melinda to ease off, and you want to show Andrew you aren’t pining—”

“Not pining,” I mutter.

“Regardless, he is here,” he says gently. “He and I don’t have the best relationship. We’re polite on the surface, but he was slated to get the head football job; then I came along and took it. He was offered an assistant’s job but declined and went back to basketball.”

“Oh.”

“My proposal is . . .” He bites his bottom lip with his top teeth, pulling at it slowly, and the gesture is somehow vulnerable yet sexy. “We pretend to date.”

My chest takes a deep breath. “Oh.”

“You can say no. I don’t want you to feel as if you have to say yes. The job is yours regardless. I mean that.”

“Okay.”

He lets out an exhale. “The booster club keeps throwing women at me; you saw my birthday party. The whole town is involved. Melinda works with me. Hell, she came to my house in lingerie. I need to date someone as a buffer. Plus, she’s already seen us kiss, so it wouldn’t be a big surprise.”