A/N: All recognizable characters belong to their respective owners. I own nothing except this beat-up laptop. And maybe an appreciation of southern boys.

This is a WitFit writing exercise and any chapters will likely be un-beta'd. Hopefully any remaining errors won't be too distracting.

WitFit Prompt: Whip, Slip, Grip. Choose one or, for an extra challenge, use all three.

"You're gonna miss."

Red's crouched over, her hands resting on her thighs as she stares me down from the front of the net. Her eyes are narrowed in concentration, but the small smile playing on her lips tells me that although she probably means what she's saying, she's just talkin' shit.

I hold the soccer ball in place, balancing my foot on top of it. I smirk at her, eager to prove her wrong. "Am I now?"

"Yep," she responds without pause, punctuating her word with a tight nod.

I raise a brow at her. "And if I make the shot?"

"You won't," she breathes out, shaking her head as she fights her smile.

I look over my shoulder at the fields that just forty-five minutes ago were filled with pre-teens performing endless drills around endless orange plastic cones. Now they're deserted. It's just Bella and me.

Turning my gaze back to her, I take in her defensive stance, her serious expression. I kinda love that she's so competitive.

Bella's hair's piled high on her head, but some loose, wavy tendrils whip around her face in the wet, sticky, summer breeze. I see the sheen of sweat on her face… catch the glint of her nose ring in the sun. I never thought I was into piercings, but damn if it doesn't work for Red. The whole picture tantalizes me.

I definitely know what I want if I get this goal.

"But what if I do?" I press.

"Hmm," she squints at me. "I don't know… what do you want?"

Yee-fuckin'-haw. This conversation just went exactly where I wanted it to go.

"I want a kiss."

Her face breaks into a smile as she stands and shifts her weight to one hip. "You already got a kiss the other day."

I shake my head. "That one didn't count."

"What? Excuse me, but it most certainly did, Eddie." Now she's folding her arms across her chest, indignant.

"It didn't," I insist, "because it was over too fast. And it was too much of surprise. I didn't get to enjoy it none."

"Ha!" she rears back, laughing. "You are such a liar."

"I'm not!" I argue, joining her with my own laugh. She's right, I enjoyed it plenty. But I ain't tellin' her that. "I'm just sayin,' I think you were on to somethin', that's all." I shrug, trying to appear casual.

She's quiet for a moment as she eyes me. "Alright," she finally agrees. "You've got a deal. You make the shot, you get a free kiss."

"Alrighty, then," I say with a grin.

She unfolds her arms and settles back into her defensive position, protecting the goal. "Alrighty, then," she echoes, waggling her brows and shooting a bright smile at me before her expression once again turns serious.

I line up for my shot, knowing what's at stake here.

My breathing slows as I focus on the top right corner of the net. I watch it, picturing the ball sailing over Red's head and hearing the soft whoosh as it's caught against the net, well out of her reach. I envision exactly how it's all gonna play out, staring at my sweet spot in the goal the entire time. I plant my left foot and rear back with my right. I sweep my kicking leg forward, sending the ball flying like a missile to the opposite side of the net.

Bella realizes my trick a half a second too late, and she scrambles to shift from where she'd favored her upper left, trying instead to dive for the lower right of the goal.

The ball glides by her, landing in the loose netting that pools in the corner.

"Golaaaaaa!" I holler, just like the cable announcers, and start running around the field, punching my fist in the air.

First I head away from Red, running toward center field, but then I turn and face her as I run full-steam in her direction. I whip off my shirt and pull a Chastain just a few feet in front of her, fisting my sweaty camp staff shirt in a ball as I sink down to my knees, my eyes closed and my mouth open in a silent, jubilant scream.

I squint one eye open and find her standing with her hands on her hips, scowling at me. "You're such a jerk."

Blinking wide-eyed at her, I wonder what the hell her problem is. I'm about to ask her exactly that when her face lights up with an amused grin.

"Oh my God," she says as she begins to laugh. "That was kinda awesome. I can't decide if I want to kill you for out-smarting or slap your ass right now for makin' that play."

I stand, brushing grass off my knees. "Well, you can slap my ass any time, girl," I say with a grin. I swipe the sweat off my face with my shirt and then drop it to the ground. I take a couple steps closer to her. "I'd prefer to live." Another step closer and we're just a couple feet apart. "Least until I get that kiss."

"Shut up," she says as she shoves my shoulder.

Her hand against my bare skin sends tingles shooting down my spine. Every hair on my body seems to stand on end and strain toward her, edging me closer, closer, closer. As she's pulling her hand away, I capture it, and bring her wrist to my ribs. I press her hand there, anchoring her to me as I close this distance left between us.

Her lips are curved up in the slightest of smiles, and somehow her dark eyes are still bright, like candles in a dark window, guiding me home. I can see her chest rise and fall with each of her breaths.

My mouth is a fraction of an inch from hers, until it's not.

Our lips touch and a million nerve-endings come alive. She's soft and sweet, warm and inviting. This kiss is nothin' like the one in the truck.

That truck kiss was an exclamation mark; this kiss is a question.

It searches, implores, explores… and I wanna know all the answers. I wanna take everything she'll give me.

I pull my lips from hers before gently returning, tilting my head a little to get a better angle. Because I sure as hell want more. My mouth finds hers again and she lets out the tiniest little squeak of a sigh. I slide my tongue along her bottom lip, and this time, she moans.

Oh, sweet Jesus.

Bella's hand slides from my ribcage down to my waist. She squeezes her fingers, palming the skin above my hip in her grip. She opens her mouth for me and I slip my tongue inside, tasting her.

Oh, sweet Jesus.

I'm pretty sure I moan or grown or growl or I don't even fucking know what, but whatever sound it is, it translates to a single word: more.

Our kiss lasts for several more seconds, each one its own lifetime. Finally, I pull away, separating to catch my breath.

I reach for her hand that's still gripping my skin and guide it down to rest by her hip. I entwine my fingers with hers and give her a sly half-grin. "Now," I drawl, "that kiss counts."

Bella blinks up at me, breathin' through her slack-jawed mouth. "Damn, Edward."

I don't bitch at her for not using my nickname.

I use my chin to point toward her beat up Chevy pickup. "Mind giving me a lift home?" I ask, raising a brow. I smile and shrug, adding, "It'll save Emmett a trip."

Shaking her head slightly, Bella blinks as if she needs to clear her mind. "Oh, sure. Of course."

She looks down at our clasped hands and even though she's not looking at me, I see her cheeks round into a smile. She starts walking, pulling me behind her. We approach my discarded shirt and she reminds me to grab it, which I do. We stop when we get to my backpack near the picnic table and I shove my shirt inside before hoisting the pack into her truck.

She doesn't let go of my hand the entire time.

Or, maybe, I don't let go of hers.

We get to the driver-side door and I finally let her fingers slide from my grasp. Wordlessly, she opens her door and I walk around to the passenger side. In the few seconds it takes to get there, I can't help but think about the kiss we just shared.

I know it's been a long time since my last first kiss, but I don't really remember feeling this kind of… need before. With Angela, I wanted. Wanted bad. But with Red? It's like I need somethin' from her.

Or maybe I just need her.

By the time I climb into Bella's truck, I know one thing is certain. If Emmett wants me to just have fun and live a little this summer, I ain't gonna argue.

A/N: Brandi Chastain is a female soccer player. After she scored the fifth kick in a penalty shootout, the U.S. Women's national team beat China to win the 1999 Women's World Cup. Chastain celebrated by spontaneously tearing off her jersey. She fell to her knees in her sports bra, clenching her fists. The image of her celebration became incredibly famous. You can Google it. ;)

Thanks for reading!