Page 13 of Pucking Forbidden

Hadley: Oh, good! I’m glad you got it. Do you really like it? You mentioned you liked Taskmaster, and I just saw it in a shop here one day. Couldn’t resist.

Julian: My own trophy replica from the show? It’s awesome, Hads.

Hadley: Yay! Nailed it!

The thought of my two favorite people coming face-to-face fills me with a strange sort of warmth. I’m not sure it’ll ever happen, given how far away they both are, but I know Hadley and Mrs. Clay would adore each other.

Damn, there’s something about this girl that just puts me at ease. She makes me smile and laugh more than I think anyone ever has. It’s easy to talk to her, and I feel like I can tell her just about anything. I don’t, but that’s how comfortable we’ve become.

I really didn’t expect us to get so close.

I still remember the exact second I first laid eyes on her, right after she’d helped Stacey give birth at the stadium. I’d walked in to see this delicate-looking woman standing out among the chaos. My eyes had widened, my entire brain short-circuiting as I stared at her. She was breathtakingly beautiful, yeah, but she was also calm and confident, hovering around Stacey protectively.

By the time Rylee and Zander’s wedding rolled around, I’d already been tracking her in my perimeter. At the reception, I noticed the quiet, anxious way she held herself, realizing she was entirely out of her depth. The protective instinct to shield her had slammed into me like a freight train.

By the end of the night, she’d declared us best friends, insisting we had to stay connected. I hadn't just passively agreed. I’d taken her phone right out of her hand, my fingers brushing hers as I typed my number into it.

You call me the second you wake up tomorrow to check in, I’d ordered her. And you text me the exact minute your plane touches down safely back in England. Understand?

I wanted a lifeline to her, and I wasn't above demanding it. She had texted me the next morning, just like I told her to. The messages had simply never stopped flowing. Even from thousands of miles away, I’d found myself looking after her, checking in on her days, making sure she was eating, protecting her from afar because the memory of how she looked in my arms refused to let me go.

She’s become a good friend. Just a friend.

That’s what I’ve been telling myself, anyway.

I can’t get enough of her, truthfully. The way she talks. The way she doesn’t try too hard. The way she lets things sit instead of forcing them.

She has the sweetest heart-shaped face with a cute button nose, wavy brown hair, and the darkest chocolate brown eyes I’ve ever seen. When I first saw her at the wedding, I was stunned. She was so gorgeous, dressed in a flowing dress that emphasized her soft curves. She’s so small and delicate, I’m certain I could hold her with one arm, and it wouldn’t take me any effort.

She pulls me in more than she should. I exhale slowly, slumping on my couch. It should feel simple, but it’s not. She’s too young… and the Coach’s granddaughter, to boot. Hadley Sullivan is off-limits in more ways than I want to count.

My grip tightens around my phone before I force myself to relax.

Don’t go there. Don’t fuck up a good thing.

Hadley: All right, I should get to this study group thing. Chat later?

I lick my lips, not wanting her to go yet, but instead I type,

Julian:You bet. Have a good night.

Once I send the message, I set my phone down and let my head fall back against the couch. For a second, I just sit in silence, staring up at my ceiling. Eventually, my eyes drift back to the laptop. Chicago’s roster stares back at me. A sudden thought crosses my mind, catching me off-guard.

If I had a woman like Hadley here, I’d have a real reason to stay.

What the fuck? Don’t be a fucking idiot! There will never be another girl like Hadley, and she’s not in Denver. Hell, if she were, it wouldn’t matter! She’s my friend. Nothing more.

She can’t be anything more.

Gritting my teeth, I reach over and shut the computer off.

CHAPTER FIVE: DESPERATE TIMESY

HADLEY

The whole week, it feels like the air around me is thick and heavy.

It’s not like it’s humid or anything. Everything just feels…dense. Almost like the gravity has been turned up a few degrees. Moving takes more effort than it should. Getting out of bed. Sitting through lectures. Pretending I care about case studies that make my brain want to leak out of my ears when I’d much rather be learning how to teach kids.