I shake my head and try to focus.
It’s a mistake. He shouldn’t talk to Coach. Not yet. Not until I’m sure. Not until we’re sure. About us. About whether or not this chemistry is long-lasting. About whether he’ll grow bored or distracted as soon as we come out as more than friends.
Keeping my voice low, I glare back at him and warn, “There’s nothing to talk about. Not yet.”
“Yeah, well, for me, there is.”
Losing my bravado, my eyes plead with his. But I don’t know if it’s because I’m scared of pissing off Coach or if it’s because I'm scared of making this thing with Theo real. Tangible. Boring.
For him. Not me.
What if he does grow bored? What if, once he’s gotten what he wanted, he doesn’t care anymore? He goes back to his old ways? It would wreck me beyond repair, and witnessing it firsthand during my internship? It would kill me.
I don’t want him to talk to Coach. I don’t want him to open a can of worms I’m not sure I can handle. I just want… Shit, I don’t know.
I don’t know. I don’t know what I want. I want confidence in my relationship––or whatever the hell this is––with Theo before I put my internship on the line. I want all of Theo. And I want it for the long haul. I don’t want to worry about puck bunnies or contracts with the NHL or anything else getting in the way of the happily-ever-after I’ve been dreaming about since I was a little girl.
And what I really don’t want? Is the possibility of making decisions when they’re too early. When this relationship is too early. It’s risky. Terrifying. And I’m afraid I’ll end up caught in the crosshairs because of it.
“It’s a bad idea, Theo,” I tell him.
“It’ll be fine. Coach is a good dude.”
I glance around the locker room, but everyone’s still too amped up on their win to notice us talking, let alone hear our conversation over the music blaring. Shifting my attention back to Theo, I whisper, “I don’t want to put my internship on the line yet. Will you please listen to me and wait? I’m not ready––”
“Baby Thorne!” Russ barks, his voice echoing from down the hall.
“I need to go. We’ll talk later, all right?” I slip out from beneath his arm without bothering to wait for his response and walk toward Russ’s office.
32
BLAKELY
Russ is already working on Graves’ shoulder as I walk into his office, my body still trembling from my interaction with Theo. When Russ sees me, he tilts his head toward Burrows resting on the cushioned black table in the corner of the room.
“Start with the foam roller. I’ll be over in a few.”
I grab the gray foam roller from the cabinet, giving Burrows a tight smile.
Stupid Graves and his stupid shoulder.
With one hand on the back of his neck, Burrows squeezes, his eyes glued to me. But he doesn’t say a word. I guess I’m not the only one who doesn’t know what to say.
“So…,” I drag out, my voice tight. “Should we get started?”
“Sure.”
He lays down, lifting his leg so I can put the foam roller beneath it, and I get right to work. Other than a low groan, Burrows stays quiet as I start the techniques Russ had walked me through when I first started shadowing him. And it’s nice. Cathartic almost. Getting lost in my work. Letting the quiet wash over us. A few minutes later, Burrows sits up, and we do a few more stretches, working on his thighs and calves as well as his knee.
“So,” he grunts, “I looked for you the other night. At the party.”
Welp. So much for the comfortable silence.
I offer him a tight smile and mutter, “Oh?”
“Where’d you go?”
“Nowhere in particular.”
“I wanted to talk to you.”
“No need,” I mumble under my breath.
“Do you hate me?”
Fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck.
My nose scrunches up, and I finally give in and groan, “Burroooows. Let’s not make this a thing, okay?”
“Look, I wanted to apologize.”
“I don’t care.”
He pulls back, surprised. “How can you not care?”
“Because I don’t,” I offer weakly. “I know it’s stupid, but what’s done is done. I’ve moved on and let it go, so you should too.”
I glance at Russ who’s still helping Graves on the opposite side of the room. The celebratory music is blasting from down the hall, and I’m grateful for it. Grateful for the way it’s covering our conversation and how personal it might get if Burrows keeps blabbering his big fat mouth.
Propping himself onto his elbows, Burrows brings himself a little closer to me as I stand next to the cushioned table he’s lying on.
“But I fucked up.”
“Everyone fucked up,” I clarify. “It was a stupid bet made by a bunch of stupid boys. That’s it. But I’m not holding onto it, and neither should you.”
“Yeah, well, I am holding onto it,” he announces.
“Yeah, well, you shouldn’t be.”
I dig my fingers into the muscles on either side of his knee, hoping it’ll shut him up and I can get this thing over with as quickly as possible. His expression pinches in discomfort, and he hangs his head, letting out a slow breath.
Oh, physical therapy, you heartless bitch. I kind of love you right now.
“Helps that I get to take it out on you,” I joke, hoping my sarcasm will lighten the mood.
With a low chuckle, he looks up at me again, and his dark eyes pin me in place. “I still like you, Blake.”
“Nope.” I shake my head and keep my attention on his leg while avoiding his gaze at all costs.
I really don’t want to have this conversation.
“I’m serious,” Burrows says. “I like––”
My gaze snaps to his. “I’m going to stop you right there.”
He frowns. “Blake––”
“Seriously. Stop,” I beg, continuing the massage. The sooner I finish, the sooner I can escape this conversation. And boy, am I ready to call it a day.
“Is this about Theo?” he demands, keeping his voice quiet.
My hands freeze, and my spine straightens. “What?”
“I wanna know if this is about Theo.”
“It’s none of––”
“It is. Isn’t it?”
“There’s nothing going on between me and Theo,” I lie.
He shakes his head as if he can’t believe I’m such an idiot.
Neither can I, buddy.
“Theo’s bad news, Blake,” he reminds me. “The parties he throws? You’ve been there. It’s like some freakin’ orgie or some shit.”
My fingers hesitate against his skin as a dry laugh escapes me. I’m blown away by the audacity of this guy. Seriously, he can’t be this dense. Even if I want to personally strangle Theo half the time, it doesn’t mean I won’t stand up for him when he isn’t around.
“That’s the tactic you’re gonna go with?” I ask him. “Theo’s a bad guy?”