Lina
Four
“The stadium is at capacity, ma’am. Ninety-two thousand. Security is in place, and we have a clear route to the VIP box.”
I nod at Agent Torres, my lead Secret Service agent, keeping my expression neutral as the motorcade rolls toward the stadium.
“Post-game, if the US wins, we’ll escort you to the tunnel area for the official congratulations. Photo op with the team, brief remarks. Twenty minutes, then we’re out.”
“Understood.”
My voice is calm. Presidential. Inside, I’m a mess.
He’s going to be there. For ninety minutes. Right in front of me. And then I have to go down there and shake his hand again and act like a normal human being.
I’m going to die.
Simone catches my eye across the car. She’s got that look, the one that says she knows exactly what I’m thinking and is enjoying my suffering immensely.
I ignore her.
“The team is in great form,” Agent Torres continues. “Coach Hendricks has them well-prepared. Should be a great game.”
Coach Hendricks.
Just hearing his name makes my pulse skip.
It’s been a week. A week since I shook his hand in the East Room and forgot how to breathe. A week since he looked at me with those damn eyes, while talking to me in that low, rough voice that made my knees weak. And I’ve been thinking about it every single day.
My friends call me Levi.
Who says that to the President? Who’s that bold, that confident, that…
Hot. The word you’re looking for is hot.
I squeeze my thighs together and stare out the window.
The VIP box is everything you’d expect. It has plush seats, catering, and a perfect view of the field. There are other officials, dignitaries, and people who want to be seen at an event like this. I don’t care about any of them. Because the teams are warming up, and he’s down there.
I spot him immediately. Wearing gray slacks, a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He’s talking to another staff member, gesturing at something on a tablet, and even from this distance, I can see the intensity radiating off him.
And those forearms.
I watched an entire European Championship game ten years ago because of those forearms. Now they’re right there, in the flesh, and I have to sit in this box for ninety minutes and pretend I’m watching soccer.
Lina, you command the most powerful army in the world. You’ve negotiated with fucking dictators. You can watch a soccer game without losing your goddamn mind!
The match kicks off, and I last about three minutes before my eyes drift to the sideline.
And let me tell you, watching Levi Hendricks coach is…
an experience. He prowls the technical area like a caged lion.
Pacing, stalking, never standing still. Shouting instructions I can’t hear, his whole body tense with focus.
When something goes wrong, the Jumbotron shows his jaw tighten and his eyes flash.
When our guys lead, he pumps his fist, and I watch the muscles in his arm flex.
God.
The camera keeps cutting to him, and his face fills the screens around the stadium. That jaw. That beard. His eyes narrowed in concentration.
I should be watching the game, paying attention to the players, the strategy, whatever the hell is happening on that field.
Instead, I’m watching him run his hand through his silver hair for the fifteenth time and wondering what it would feel like to do that myself. To grip that hair while his head is between my…
STOP!
I shift in my seat, crossing my legs. My body is not cooperating. There’s a steady pulse between my thighs that’s been building from the moment I spotted Levi on the field, and it’s getting harder to ignore.
You are in public, Lina Kane. There are cameras. FUCKING GET IT TOGETHER!
Someone scores. The crowd erupts. I clap and cheer on autopilot, having no idea what just happened.
Simone leans over. “That’s one-zero U.S., ma’am. Our goal.”
“I know.”
I absolutely did not know. She smirks. I ignore her.
On the sideline, Levi is celebrating with his staff, and his smile…
My heart.
I’ve seen this man smile in photos. In interviews. But never like this. This is pure, unfiltered joy; his whole face transformed, and it hits me like a punch to the chest.
I want to make him smile like that. I want to be the reason he smiles like that.
The thought catches me off guard. It’s not just lust, though there’s plenty of that. It’s something else. Something far more dangerous.
You don’t even know this man, Lina. You freaking shook his hand once!
But I feel like I do. Years of watching him, studying him, building a picture of who he is. The interviews where he’s unexpectedly funny, self-deprecating, quick-witted. The way he talks about his players like they’re his family. His quiet intensity, his passion, his drive.
I know Levi Hendricks, at least the parts of him he shares with the public. I just haven’t met him. Not really.
But you want to.
Yeah. I really, really do.
The game ends 3-1. The stadium is delirious. Ninety-two thousand people on their feet, chanting, screaming. The players are celebrating on the field, hugging each other, waving to the crowd. And I’m about to go down there.
Okay. Deep breaths. You can do this, Lin’.
Agent Torres appears at my elbow. “Ready when you are, ma’am.”
I stand, smooth my dress, and paste on my presidential smile.
It’s just a photo op. Shake hands, look gracious. And don’t stare at Levi’s forearms!
We make our way through the tunnels, security flanking me on all sides. I can hear the roar of the crowd above, feel the energy vibrating through the concrete walls.
Then we’re at the tunnel entrance, with the players filtering in, sweaty and overjoyed.
And him… He sees me before I do. I feel it: the weight of his gaze landing on me like a physical touch. I turn, and there he is, twenty feet away, surrounded by staff and players.
Our eyes meet. And oh fuck.
He’s sweaty. Tie loosened, top button undone, hair disheveled from running his hands through it. He looks like he just ran a marathon. Or had sex for fucking hours…
My mouth goes dry.
Focus, Kane. You’re fucking working here!
I tear my gaze away and start greeting players. Congratulations, great game, the country is proud. The words come automatically, leaving my brain free to track his location at all times.
He’s getting closer. Working his way toward me through the crowd. I can feel him approaching in my very bones.
And then he’s there.
“Madam President.”
His voice cuts through the noise, low and gravelly, and my whole body tightens. I turn. Levi’s right in front of me now. Close enough that I can smell him: sweat and something clean, masculine, and warm. Close enough that I can see the flush on his cheeks, the rapid pulse at his throat.
“Congratulations, Coach.” My voice is steady, professional. “Impressive performance.”
He tilts his head, and there’s something in his eyes: amusement, heat, challenge.
“I thought we agreed on Levi.”
Oh.
My face warms and my smile spreads so much, my cheeks hurt. And I know he can see it. I know he’s watching for it.
This fucking man.
“Did we?” I manage through my beaming smile.
Levi nods, all tall, broad, and stupidly handsome. “We did.” He steps closer, by just half a step, nothing too obvious or that could get my security detail alarmed, but suddenly the space between us feels tiny. “My friends call me Levi. And I’d like us to be friends, Madam President.”
A short, breathy laugh escapes my lips. The way he said friends… it’s like the word is a placeholder for something else altogether.
I’m going to come, is the insane thought that crosses my mind.
“Lina.” The word is out before I can stop it. Levi’s eyes flash. Something shifts in his expression, dark, hungry.
“Lina,” he repeats, and my name in his mouth is the most erotic thing I’ve ever heard. A low rumble, like he’s tasting it. Like he’s been waiting to say it.
I can’t fucking breathe.
“Can I please walk you out?” he asks. “I’d hate for this to be the last time I see you.”
That’s not subtle. Not at all.
I huff out another short laugh, shaking my head. “That’s not really protocol, Coach.”
His full lips hook up at one corner into a smile I’m fucking dying to taste. “I know.” He doesn’t look away. “I’m asking, anyway.”
I should say no, smile politely, let my security team escort me back to the motorcade and forget this entire surreal interaction.
Instead, I hear myself say: “Okay.” Still smiling, looking up at him, his expression matching mine…
Then we’re walking. The Secret Service trails at a respectful distance around us, close enough to intervene if need be, far enough to give us the illusion of privacy. The tunnel gets quieter as we move away from the celebration. Our footsteps echoing on the concrete.
“So,” Levi says, glancing down at me. God, he’s tall… “What did you actually think of the game?”
I put on my serious face, nodding. “I thought it was impressive. Our team played…”
“No.” He shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his dreamy lips. “That’s a politician’s answer. I want a real one.”
I laugh out loud and stop walking. He stops too, turning to face me. Studying me. Still grinning.
He’s asking me to be real. Not the president. Just me. Wow… When’s the last time anyone did that?
I shake my head. “Honestly?” I ask. “I have no idea what happened there. I don’t really get soccer.”
He blinks, lays one huge hand over his heart. And then he laughs. It’s a good laugh. Warm, genuine, his face transforming with it. It does something to my chest, loosens a tightness in me. And I can’t stop staring, taking in all this beauty, feeling it…
“You don’t get soccer,” Levi repeats, beaming. “You sat through ninety minutes of a sport you don’t understand?”
I shrug, staring back into his pretty eyes, returning his bright smile. “I had to. I’m on the clock.”
He barks out another quick laugh. “And what were you doing the whole time, if not paying attention to the game?”
Watching you. Thinking about your forearms. Getting wet in the VIP box like a horny teenager.
“Thinking about our international policy,” I lie.
His grin widens. He doesn’t believe me for a goddamn second.
“Liar.”
I let out a surprised huff of amusement. “Excuse me?”
Levi is sexy-smiling the pants off me. “You’re lying, Madam President.” He steps closer, and his voice drops even lower. “Your tells are obvious.”
I bite my bottom lip to rein in my goofy grin. “I don’t have tells.”
“Everyone has tells, Lina.” He’s standing so damn close. I can see the silver strands in his beard, the crinkles at the corners of his baby blues. “Yours is your left hand. You tap your thumb against your thigh when you’re not being honest.”
My lips part and I look down. My thumb is pressed against my thigh.
Fuck. Me.
I look back up at him, and he’s watching me with his pale eyes, the air between us thick with something I can’t name. Won’t.
“Then what do you think I was doing during the game?” I ask. My voice is quiet, intimate.
Levi matches my tone. “I don’t know.” He holds my gaze. “But I know you weren’t watching the game. Because every time I looked up at your box, you were looking at me.”
Oh God.
Heat spreads over my face, my neck, my chest. I’m caught. Oh God.
“I…”
“Lina, I was looking too,” he says quickly. Quiet. Intent. “Every chance I got. Couldn’t help it.”
I can’t breathe. I literally cannot breathe.
We stand there, in the stadium’s tunnel, staring at each other. With the sounds of the celebration fading. There’s just us. This man who’s looking at me like I’m the only thing in the world worth seeing. And me, matching him blink for blink.
“I should go,” I whisper.
“I know.”
Neither of us moves.
“I want to see you again,” he says. “I’m too old for games, Lina. I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time. And I think you like me too.”
A long time?
I ask without giving myself time to think. “How long?”
“Years.” He doesn’t even hesitate. “Saw you give a speech when you were still a senator. Couldn’t stop watching. Haven’t stopped since.”
My heart is pounding so hard I’m sure he can hear it.
“That’s…”
“Crazy? Yeah.” He shrugs, that small smile playing at his lips. “I’m aware.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I was going to say mutual.”
His eyes darken.
“Good,” Levi says, and the word is a low rumble that I feel straight in my pussy.
Agent Torres clears his throat behind me. “Madam President, The Beast is ready,” he says, referring to the presidential car.
Reality crashes back in. I’m the president. I’m standing in a tunnel, confessing a crush to a man I barely know, while my security detail waits.
Fuck my life.
“I have to go,” I still smiling like a damn fool.
“I know.” He doesn’t step back.
“Win our next game. And maybe I’ll see you again.”
He grins. “I’ll make sure of it.”
This man.
I shake my head, heart full, cheeks hurting, insides melting. “Good luck, Levi.”
His name feels amazing in my mouth. Right.
“Goodnight, Lina.” He says it softly, intimate. Like a promise.
I turn and walk toward the car, the Secret Service falling into step around me. I don’t look back. But I feel his eyes on me the entire way…