Ryan Hunter

grass at soccer, you need to get used to the additional—”
    “Torture?”
    Smart-ass. “Exactly.” I walked toward her and gently swiped her sweaty bangs out of her eyes. Every time I touched her, I could think about nothing else than a first, tender kiss. Something in her look told me she was becoming aware of it, too. Breaking our locked gazes, I took the empty bottle out of her hands and tossed it along with mine into the trashcan. Then I stiffened at the sound of footsteps on the porch.
    Shit. That was my mom.
    My glance skidded to the door then back at Liza. Not a good moment to have her here. Liza seemed equally shocked, but maybe just because I sort of panicked right in front of her. There was not time for an explanation. As my mom’s key rattled in the lock, I started toward Liza and tried not to hurt her when I knocked her backward over the couch. We landed on the cushions together, then I rolled to the side and pulled her down to the hard wooden floor with me, out of my mom’s sight. Hands down, Liza landing on top of me was the summit of my dreams, but it also pushed all air out of my lungs.
    As she scowled down at me, I could feel her warm breath on my face, and it made me harden underneath her. So not what I had planned, dammit. I clamped down on my jaw and fought for control. But I didn’t think she noticed, although something in her expression softened for a millisecond. Like she was surprised about what she saw there in my eyes.
    “Who is it?” she hissed, then and her gaze turned annoyed once again.
    “Can o nly be my mom,” I whispered back and suppressed a moan then shoved her off of me. It was safer for both of us if she didn’t stay on top of me in this unbelievable turn-me-on position. I squeezed her in between the couch and me and placed one hand over her mouth to keep her silent while my mom carried several boxes into the kitchen. “She’s stocking the fridge.”
    As my lips brushed against her ear, Liza closed her eyes. Her warm breath caressed the back of my hand. I smiled. Enjoying it, was she? What the hell stopped me from kissing around her ear a little just to make her sigh like that again? Ah right, noise drifting from behind the couch did.
    A few seconds later, Liza pulled my hand away from her lips. “Why are we hiding here?”
    Because things like girls were a complicated issue with my folks and me. “My parents don’t like me bringing random girls to this place. Unless you want to be introduced as my girlfriend, I suggest you stay down.”
    She didn’t move. Okay, being introduced as my girlfriend wasn’t her goal, however much it was mine. But I really didn’t want to answer questions from my mom, so I appreciated Liza’s silent agreement.
    It didn’t take long until my mom was done and left the bungalow. Just to be sure, I waited another minute before I got to my feet.
    Liza breathed a relieved sigh. She wouldn’t take my hand when I offered to help her up, but remained lying, legs bent, feet on the floor, and folded her arms behind her head. “You sure your dad isn’t on his way, too?”
    “Yes, I’m sure. ” Silly little girl. She always made me laugh with her cynicism. “He never comes here during the week.” Ignoring her belligerent behavior, I reached down for her hand and pulled. “Get up.”
    Rising, she patted invisible dust off her bum. “Next time you feel the need to knock me over, I’d appreciate a little warning first.”
    If that is all it takes to drag her down with me… “Gotcha!”
    I went to the bathroom in the back of the house, right next to my bedroom, and fetched a fresh towel from the shelf. Walking back to the front, I wiped my face and neck with it then tossed it at Liza so she could towel off, too.
    She caught it, then looked at the terry cloth with a wry face. “Ew.”
    Ew ? Seriously? I stopped, turning to her, and wanted to tell her that she was now a soccer player and not running for Miss California.
    But her snappy tongue was faster than mine. “I don’t know how a little running together got us to that level of intimacy.”
    It just does . Deal with it. She got my arching of a brow as an answer and, ignoring her grimace, I walked out on the porch and slumped down on the swing. It took only half a minute until she followed me, and hey, she was rubbing her neck with my used towel.
    She tossed it back at me with a hard thrust. I caught it before the bundle smacked me in the face.
    “Let’s go back,” she