Page 94 of Taking Sides

Noise behind us grabs my attention, and I turn in time to see Conrad waving at a group of fans calling out to him and telling him nice job tonight. He’s gracious but keeps moving forward, heading for us.

Butterflies swarm aggressively in my stomach as he takes long, purposeful steps. His smile is locked on me, but the boys block him. Much like the other fans, they want to praise him for an amazing game. Except in their words, it’s more like, “That was totally sick!” “You left those Chicago players in the dust.”

Conrad thanks them, all the while moving slowly through them to get closer to me. Our bus arrives as he finally reaches me.

“All right, gentlemen, on the bus.” Grady stands at the open door and corrals the boys inside.

“Pretty impressive,” I say to Conrad once we have a smidge of privacy.

“I had some extra inspiration tonight.” His grin pulls wider.

“The boys are very inspiring.”

“I meant you.” He takes a step closer and hooks his pinky finger with mine.

“Oh, you mean this old thing.” I tug on my jersey.

From the bus, one of the boys rolls down a window and then Pepper sticks his head out to yell, “Coach Whit, is Conrad Shepard your boyfriend?”

“What?” I step back from Conrad way too quickly and my voice lifts several octaves higher than normal. “No. We’re . . . we’re . . .”

I look to Conrad for help, but he’s just grinning at me like he’s waiting for me to figure out how to label us too.

“Friends,” I say too quietly for anyone else to hear.

Conrad quirks a brow, and his grin gets all the more smug. “Friends, huh?”

“If she’s your girlfriend, can we come to more games?” another one of my players yells.

I turn to reprimand them, but Conrad beats me to it.

“Sure.” His blue eyes twinkle with trouble. “If your coach agrees to be my girlfriend, I’ll see if I can get you playoff tickets.”

The reaction is immediate chaos, and now nearly every window is down as they all yell out at us.

“No way!”

“Come on, Coach Whit. Go out with him!”

Others are just chanting, “Coach Whit, Coach Whit.”

“You’d extort me in front of my team?” I gasp in mock outrage as my body continues to hum and tingle with a giddiness I’m not sure I’ve ever felt before.

He shrugs, but his face is turning a little red at all the attention. “What do you say, Coach Whit?”

“How could I say no to playoff tickets?”

Conrad chuckles softly and then swiftly closes the distance between us as he bends down and brushes his lips over mine. It’s quick, but the boys still hoot and holler. My face is on fire.

“I can’t believe you did that,” I say to him.

“Just kissing my girlfriend goodbye.”

He moves back, still facing me as he heads back toward the arena. “Oh, and for the record . . .” He flashes that charming smile at me. “I’d have gotten them the tickets either way.”

TWENTY-FOUR

“Is your girlfriend coming over?” D-Low smirks at me as he pulls a clean T-shirt on over his head.