“God, Dallas, if you only knew how much I wanted you.”

I slip a hand between us, finding the hard ridge of him through the fabric of his shorts, and he hisses out a breath.

“I’ve got some idea.”

His mouth covers mine—wild and hot and greedy—and he bites down on my bottom lip at the same time that his finger curls inside of me. I arch up, lost in the sensation, and his mouth moves down to my chest. I feel another graze of his teeth and squeeze his length in response.

“Oh f**k, baby.” His gruff words, spoken against the sensitive skin of my breast, make the heat between my legs turn molten.

This . . . this I can handle. His sure, sensuous touch. Tendrils of a new kind of trust.

I pull him up to me for another kiss, and together we spend time exploring, touching, and tasting before exhaustion takes us.

IN THE WEEK before the team’s next game, the entire university transforms. There’s red and black everywhere—banners and T-shirts and signs and sidewalk chalk. The energy is electric and powerful, and I can see the way it changes Carson. He’s tired. He’s been putting in crazy hours all week—on the field and with his tutors. I’ve spent almost every night at his apartment because otherwise, I’m not sure I’d get to see him. But even through the fatigue, he wears a constant smile, and I think that finally he’s beginning to believe in himself.

It’s our last game before homecoming, and then we’ve got three away games in a row. When the buzzer sounds and we’ve won by fourteen, the student section of the stadium pours down from the bleachers, and fills the field with red and black. Some overzealous fans make a dash for the goal posts, but the crew is already busy collapsing them before they can get there. Instead, everyone just stands there screaming and shouting like we’ve won a national championship.

It’s not that. But it is an upset, and not by a small margin either. It’s a solid win, and the fans aren’t the only ones that are ecstatic. I stay in the stands because I still haven’t told Dad about Carson, but I watch him on the field. He smiles widely, sharing crushing hugs with player after player before finally my dad stands in front of him.

It’s not the team’s first win, but it’s Carson’s, and that seems more important.

Dad slaps a hand on his padded shoulder, and they talk for a few moments before they hug like all the rest.

I decide that I’m telling Dad this week. I need to if I want to road-trip with Stella to the next away game.

I expect to meet Carson at his apartment again, but he texts asking if I’d be open to going to a party, and I say yes because he’s earned the right to celebrate. I tell Stella and she’s all over it, dragging us back to our dorm to get prettied up.

Even though it’s chilly outside, I pull on a formfitting purple dress. It has long sleeves, and I decide on some black tights and my black leather jacket to go with it. I leave my hair down because I know Carson likes it like that, and I put on a little more makeup than normal.

Stella whistles. “Damn, girl.” I take that as her approval. She drives to the party, and in the car on the way she says, “I’m going out on a limb and saying you’re going home with Carson tonight.”

I nod. We haven’t talked about it, but all the energy of this week and the win has me anxious to touch him, to soak up the way he makes me feel.

“So are y’all just giving up the whole incognito thing?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I was going to talk to him about it tonight.”

“What do you think your dad will say?”

“He’ll be pissed. You remember how long it took him to be okay with me dating Levi, and he loved him. I think, though, after the whole drug thing, that he’s even more wary. But Carson is a good guy, and Dad likes him, and I think as long as I ease him into it that he’ll be fine. Eventually.”

“Good luck, sister.”

The party is at a house where a few teammates all live together, and as soon as we enter, I can see Stella sizing up the room.

I laugh. “Good luck to you, too.”

Hands on her hips, she scoffs. “Luck has nothing to do with it.”

I follow her lead, and scan the room looking for Carson. I find him almost immediately. He’s sitting on a huge sectional, surrounded by players and cheerleaders, but his eyes are on me. He’s wearing a charcoal gray shirt that hugs his body and makes his eyes stand out. He’s so incredibly sexy, and the hungry look he fixes on me makes my legs feel like Jell-O.

My phone buzzes.

You have no idea how

badly I want to kiss you.

I smile.

About that. I was thinking that

I might tell my dad this week.

I’m glad I kept it tame and only

said kiss.

I roll my eyes.

You know what I mean. About us.

That is . . . if you’re okay with it.

Am I okay touching and kissing

you every time I see you, no matter

where we are? Hell yes.

He might be hard on you. He’s not

always most logical person when it

comes to treating me my age.

I can take it.

Is there somewhere we can be

alone? For just a little bit.

To my surprise, he leans over to Silas and the two talk quietly.

Upstairs. Second room on the left.

I’ll go up first. Give it a minute or

two, and then you follow.

Done, Romeo.

Romeo, huh?

I might have changed my mind

a little about chance romantic

meetings at parties.

Well, here’s to romantic party meeting number two.

I duck into the kitchen to get a drink and to kill some time. Someone must have been feeling especially celebratory, because in addition to the keg, there’s liquor and mixers set up on the bar. I fill up my cup with mostly cranberry juice, and a splash of vodka, while two minutes stretches into an infinity.

I’m counting the seconds in my head when a body leans on the bar next to me, too close.

“You’re Coach Cole’s daughter, right?”

I manage a thin smile. “Yeah.”

The guy is massive, tall and blond and probably closing in on three hundred pounds.

“Jake Carter.” He holds out his hand. “I’m on the defensive line.” I take his hand, and he shakes mine a little too long for my comfort.

“You talked to Levi since everything went down?”