Pinching the bridge of his nose, Burrows mutters, “He isn’t a bad guy, he’s––”
“And now you’re not even going to stick with it?” I tsk, more amused than annoyed. “Come on, man. I expected more from you.”
I can almost taste his exasperation on my tongue as he shakes his head and asks, “What do you want from me, Blake? How can I convince you to give me another chance?”
I glance at Russ again, my spidey-senses tingling, but he isn’t listening. He’s too engrossed in the x-rays Graves’ doctor sent earlier this week.
“I’m not looking for a relationship right now,” I whisper, my thumbs moving from his knee and down to his calf.
“Not even with Theo?”
“Especially not with Theo.”
“I saw you looking at him on the ice.”
“I was looking at everyone on the ice,” I lie. Truth be told, the guy managed to steal the show, but I’m not about to admit it to Burrows. “And even if I was looking at him,” I add, “we’re just friends.”
“So, you aren’t dating him?” he challenges.
“I’m not dating anyone. Especially anyone on the team.”
“And if I weren’t on the team?”
“I still wouldn’t be interested.”
He grabs my wrist, sitting up fully until we’re far too close for my comfort. “Why? Because you want someone else?”
“What I want is to keep this internship.”
“Then let me talk to Coach. I’ll explain––”
“I don’t like you like that,” I tell him. “And I know it isn’t what you want to hear, but I don’t see my feelings changing anytime soon, if ever. The you and me ship?” I wiggle my finger between us. “It sailed a while ago, Burrows. To be honest, it’s long gone. Like over the horizon never to return kind of gone.”
His fingers graze along the inside of my wrist, but the butterflies I know should be present are missing. It’s like when Colt touches me. All I feel are calloused hands. No zing. No goosebumps. Nothing.
For some reason, it only aggravates me more. It’d be easier if I liked Burrows. If I was able to compare what I feel for Theo to someone else and to have it hold a candle to my feelings for the bastard. But the truth is? There is no comparison. There’s never been a comparison. With anyone.
“Why?” Burrows whispers, bringing me back to the present.
I shift my gaze from his touch to his brown eyes and pull my hand away from him. “Do I need a reason?”
“No, but if you have one, I think I deserve to hear it. Especially if it involves someone else.”
“I already told you––”
“I know what you said. But I think you’re full of shit.”
“I’m not full of shit,” I argue. “And even if I was––which trust me, nothing will come of it––I can’t help it if I have feelings for someone else.”
“Especially when that someone doesn’t deserve you,” he mutters.
With a laugh, I nod and get back to massaging his legs. “On that, we agree.”
“You gonna do anything about it? Let him do anything about it?”
I shake my head again. “What’s the point? Like I said, I need this internship. I need the future it’ll bring me if I don’t screw it up. I like the people I get to meet and the things I get to learn. I’m not going to give it up for a guy like him, as you so eloquently reminded me a few minutes ago.”
“Yeah. Well. Good. Because he doesn’t deserve you,” he repeats.
“Again. On that, we agree,” I quip.
“You gonna come to the Taylor House tonight?”
“And witness said reasons why a certain someone doesn’t deserve me?” My nose wrinkles. “No, thank you.”
“Come on. We’ll go together,” he suggests.
My gaze narrows.
“As friends,” he clarifies.
Friends.
Sure.
Been there. Done that. It was not successful. So, nope. No, thank you.
Patting his thigh, I reply, “Unfortunately, I have plans. But thanks for the offer. Now roll over. We’re going to do a few more stretches.”
And even though he grumbles something under his breath, he does as he’s told, and I’m left feeling lighter than I’ve felt in weeks.
33
BLAKELY
Big Red cinnamon gum is sitting on my windshield along with a Vitamin water. I bite my lip to keep from smiling as I pick them up and put them onto my passenger seat.
No note.
Again.
Not that I need one this time, either.
My phone dings with a text, and Theo’s name lights up on the screen.
Apparently, I spoke too soon.
A photo of Colt giving me two thumbs up while rolling his eyes appears along with a message.
Theo: Colt gave me the green light to date you. Just so you know.
I shouldn’t find the photo endearing, but I do. I also shouldn’t think it’s cute how Theo went out of his way to get my brother’s permission, even when we both know I’m a grown-ass woman who can do whatever she wants. The fact he asked? It’s kind of adorable.
The problem, however, is Theo knows it.
And I refuse to let him win.
Me: See? Here’s the thing. You think he’s the gatekeeper to my heart, but he isn’t. He knows it. And I know it. (Hence capturing his eyes mid-roll in the picture.)
Theo: And who is the gatekeeper? Coach?
Me: Is this you trying to prove you like me?
Theo: One cinnamon treat at a time ‘cause my girl likes to keep things spicy. ;)
I snort and drop my phone to my lap. But I only make it out of the driveway before I pick my stupid cell back up again. I can’t help it. The guy’s too addictive. Too enticing. And the way I crave every single encounter with the bastard? It isn’t fair. Especially when he says things like my girl.
Praying for strength, I type out my response.
Me: I’m not sure if you’ve been hit in the head one too many times, but I’m not your girl.
Theo: You’ve always been my girl. Sorry it took me so long to see it.
Well, shit. If the guy wanted to make his point clear, he succeeded. My phone buzzes with another text.
Theo: I’ll see you in a few, Baby Thorne.
My heart pinches, and I type my response.
Me: See you at the game, Teddy.
Spicy cinnamon explodes across my taste buds as I chew the gum Theo left on my car. I shove the rest of the pack into my purse, well aware how long the flavor lasts. I’m going to need another dozen pieces to make it through today.
The locker room is bustling with players. It’s a big game today. Clearly, everyone can feel it. The energy. The anticipation. They’re putting on their gear while I hang out by the empty showers, waiting for Russ to finish a private phone call in his office.
“Hey,” Colt greets me, looking like a badass hockey player in his full get-up as he walks toward me. “Did you get the picture?”