Scoring The Coach ✔️

chapter nine

Chapter Nine

The next thing I knew, I was unbuckling my seatbelt and climbing out of my seat and then we were kissing faster. Desperately. With hot open mouths and his hands on my body pulling me closer.

For the record, I'd only kissed Mitch and my seventh-grade crush. Memorizing the feeling of someone new with his mouth on mine was strange.

Jared felt different than either of them in the best possible way. His jaw scraped against my chin and his tongue and lips tasted like heaven. He was Jared, my Jared, and he was kissing me.

He was my coach.

He was my everything.

This was wrong.

But it felt right.

I was Laura. He was someone I was falling for. The details of the situation no longer mattered. It all melted away to background noise. I was hyper-focused on the moment, nothing more and nothing less.

So I kept kissing him and the fact it was forbidden made it feel all the better.

The kiss deepened and the light was still green but neither of us cared. I was out of my seat and in his lap with my body pressed against his. We were kissing and kissing and kissing with hearts beating so fast they might fly out of our chests.

The only reason we stopped was that I fell back into the steering wheel and the horn honked. It was the shock back to reality both of us needed.

What felt like an eternity must've only been a few seconds.

We parted, staring at one another with baffled expressions. Slowly, I slipped away, readjusting my clothes and getting back in my own seat.

In my head, I was thinking about a million things. My lips were still buzzing from molding against his and I could still taste him in my mouth. I was thinking that I was going to fall for him if I wasn't careful. I was thinking that the soccer season was almost over anyway. I was thinking that this was an adult decision I elected to make. And I was thinking that this could very well be a mistake.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, clearing his throat as he started driving forward again. "I'm sorry, Laura."

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, wondering if I had dreamt it. "Why are you sorry? Do you regret kissing me?"

He shook his head. "That's just it. I don't. I don't know if I should. Do you regret it?"

I shook my head too. "Of course not."

"This is gonna get messy," he said.

I took his hand in mine slowly, as though I was still unsure of whether or not it was okay. "I'm fine with messy."

"I'm not ready to take you home yet," he confessed. "Can I take you somewhere?"

I looked at the clock glowing on the center console, my swollen bottom lip drifting between my teeth. My parents knew I would be out late with Risa, and my mom didn't wait up now that I was an adult.

I didn't have to go home yet.

"Okay," I said.

A quiet smile transformed his face as he took a turn in a different direction. I had no idea where we were going, which was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. I wasn't sure what to expect. My brain still hadn't processed the fact he kissed me, let alone that he might do it again.

The next thing I knew, we were at a 24-hour drive-in and he was ordering milkshakes at the window a few feet away.

He came back to the car a few minutes later with two styrofoam cups, holding them up in front of me. "Which one do you want?"