Page 74

I blow out a breath. "It's not about tonight, Wyatt. It's about what tonight turns into once people start talking."

He studies me for a moment. "I still think the chances of Coach Brennan ever hearing about one dinner are pretty slim."

"You don't know my father."

"I just don't think we should plan our lives around the absolute worst thing that might happen."

"It's not might. It's when."

"So what are you saying?" His voice is careful now. "That you don't want to keep seeing me?"

The question hits harder than it should, mostly because I already know the answer. I do want to keep seeing him.

I want more tacos, his sexy mouth talking dirty to me, and his sarcastic text messages. I want the way he makes me laugh until my stomach hurts, and the way he looks at me like I’m the only interesting person in the room.

And that's exactly the problem.

"I..." My voice catches. "I don't know what I'm saying."

His gaze never leaves mine as he takes a step closer. “I already told you this matters to me. If your dad’s unhappy, I’m the young guy who went behind his coach’s back. Believe me, I’ve got plenty to lose here too.”

"But you're still standing here."

"Yeah."

A small, stubborn smile tugs at one corner of his mouth. "I'm still standing here.”

He doesn't move, and for a second the only sound is the food stall's generator humming somewhere behind us and a car pulls out onto the road. I look at him standing there in his off-duty shirt, jaw tight, waiting for me to say something back, and I don't have anything ready.

Then he makes a decision and grabs both our plates off the hood instead. "Come on," he says. "Before it gets cold."

We cross the lot together, gravel crunching under our shoes until the asphalt gives way to a soft slope of sand at the edge of the lot. I toe off my shoes at the top of it, sling them by the laces over two fingers, and he does the same, rolling his jeans once at the ankle.

We make our way down to the beach, where the last of the sunset is fading over the water. There aren't many people around, and once we've walked a little farther from the parking lot, it's just us, the sound of the waves, and the occasional breeze coming off the ocean.

I pull the sleeves of his hoodie over my hands.

Wyatt glances at me. “Cold?”

“A little.”

“We're almost there.”

We walk a little farther before he slows down and looks at me.

“Hey. Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Are you okay? With what happened back there, I mean.”

I know he's talking about Carol Holloway.

I look down, thinking about the way she'd looked at us in the parking lot. The questions she'd asked. How quickly she'd recognized that there was something going on between us.

“Yeah,” I say eventually. “I mean, I'm a little freaked out that she saw us together, but I'm okay.”

He nods. “Yeah. I get that.”