“Let’s just say that everyone’s concentration wobbled a bit when the girls came into the gym,” he murmured.
A smile tugged at my lips. “Playing middle school matchmaker?”
His eyes gleamed. “They weren’t the only ones who were distracted, Splits.”
I died. Twice.
He smiled down at me, his back to everyone else, the moment a secret between us.
I was turned on, sexually frustrated, and ready to throw caution to the wind. My voice shook as I tried to speak past the emotion and arousal that clogged my throat.
“I didn’t know you were volunteering here,” I commented, struggling to keep from reaching out, grabbing his T-shirt, and hauling his mouth to mine.
If you looked up “sexually frustrated” in the dictionary, you’d get a picture of my face. If you looked up “temptation” in the dictionary, you’d find a picture of his.
His expression was almost sheepish, another side of him I hadn’t seen before.
“I started during fall break. I come a few days a week. It’s cool. They’re good kids. I help them out with homework sometimes, although I have to admit, they’re severely testing my math skills, and I occasionally play basketball, which I am far better at.” He shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”
It was a big deal. It was him trying. Just like when he bought me coffee to make me feel better. Or explained the Commerce Clause to me. It was all the little things he’d been doing along the way that, strung together, meant a lot.
I was falling in love with him.
The truth of it knocked me back, and it was almost a minute before I could speak. Moments passed while he just stared down at me with a quizzical, searching look as I attempted to process this change.
I knew it was a tricky situation, but we were two weeks away from finals and the semester was almost over. I could understand waiting until he wasn’t officially my teacher anymore, but it pissed me off that he wasn’t willing to give us a chance, period.
He smiled at me when he saw me, said hi, talked to me about the pro bono project. We’d almost become friends. But what had happened between us on Halloween was never repeated, despite the tension that swirled around us.
“You okay?” he asked, concern in his gaze.
I nodded, not sure I trusted my voice enough to speak.
“You didn’t tell me you were so good at basketball.”
It was the lamest thing to say, and the world’s most awkward transition, but so much easier than, I think I’m in love with you. Considering he’d freaked out when we’d kissed, I figured a declaration of love would send him running and screaming in the opposite direction.
Epic fail.
He gifted me with another heartbreaking grin. “Yeah, I played a bit when I was a kid.” He shot me a pointed look. “You didn’t tell me you were so bendy.”
Bendy? I remembered the split, and my heart picked up a beat.
Fuck.
The back and forth was killing me. We kissed, he told me it couldn’t happen again. He fingered me on Halloween, told me we could only be friends. And he flirted. Constantly. He was sweet, sexy, and little by little, he carved a space in my heart with his name on it.
The stakes were too high, there was too much at risk for me. Either he wanted me, or he didn’t, but either way, he had to decide.
“You can’t keep doing this.”
The words came out before I even realized I felt them, and then as soon as I said it, I knew. I couldn’t let myself love him if there wasn’t a chance he would love me back.
The smile slid off his face.
My voice shook, but I said it anyway.
“I want you. If that means waiting a few weeks, fine. But I’m done playing this game. Either you want me, or you don’t. Stop jerking me around.”
“I’m not—”
“You are. Tell me you’re not, every time you touch me, kiss me, smile at me. You say we can’t be physical, and then you tell me I’m bendy. You flirt with me. Constantly. And don’t just say it’s your personality, because I’ve never seen you talk to anyone the way you talk to me. If you want me, do something about it. If you don’t, fine. I’m a big girl. I can deal. But either way, make up your mind.”
And then I walked away.
Gray
“Was that your girlfriend?”
I turned and looked down at Jason, one of the kids who liked to hang out and play ball after school.
It was really not good when I was so obvious that an eighth grader could tell. I glanced over to where Blair stood with her friend, Caitlin, worry ramming into me.
How long before people started to figure out that there was something between us? How long before I fucked this up, too? Considering the words she’d just hurled at me, had I already screwed up with her?
My jaw clenched. “No.”
He winked at me. “She’s hot.”
“Watch it.”
He laughed. “I’m just saying, if I were you, I’d lock her down.”
I tried to keep my expression serious, but failed in the face of this scrawny, backward-cap-wearing kid giving me romantic advice.
I blinked. “How old are you?”
“Fourteen.”
Jesus.
“That’s my girlfriend.” He nodded proudly, pointing to a pretty blonde girl shooting hoops. I’d seen her around and she seemed like a nice kid.
Jason grinned. “Like I said, gotta lock ’em down.”
He was one of my favorites in the after-school program. He didn’t talk about his family, but the principal had mentioned that his dad took off when he was a kid and his mom worked two jobs supporting Jason and his younger brother. Whatever his family situation, the kid always had a smile on his face. And he was smart.
“Trust me,” I muttered. “Sometimes it’s not that easy.”
He just flashed me that same cocky grin. “You just gotta have game.”
“Maybe I can borrow some then,” I joked, unable to remain stern in the face of this kid’s exuberance.
“Nah. You got game. You just need to know how to use it.”
Well, this ranked up there with one of the most surreal moments of my life. I’d had a few friends back in Chicago before I blew up my life. I’d never been all that social, but there had been guys I’d studied with, guys I’d played basketball with on Sunday afternoons. Somewhere along the way, I’d lost all of that. It was pathetic to admit, but not only did I have a shit relationship with my family, I’d alienated myself from any friends.
I was alone, and I only had myself to blame for it. And then there was Blair. It wasn’t just that she was sexy, she genuinely felt like a friend. And she was right—
I had no clue what I was doing with her.
“You going to be around for this Thanksgiving thing?” Jason asked.
I nodded.
“Cool. I’ll see you there.” Jason extended his hand and gave me the handshake we’d developed.
I watched him walk away, a smile tugging at my mouth, and then my gaze drifted over to where Blair stood shooting hoops with some of the girls. Trying, at least. Basketball was definitely not her game. But none of that mattered. The smile on her face was everything. Her laugh floated through the gym and something tightened in the vicinity of my heart.
I couldn’t stay away from her. And she was right, I was being a dick by jerking her around. I was too selfish to walk away and too afraid to take a chance. She deserved someone better than me, but for whatever insane reason, I was the one she wanted. And I was so tired of keeping her at arm’s length. Maybe it was time to stop worrying about being the good guy, and time to start going after what—who—I wanted.
In the immortal words of an eighth grade boy, it was time to lock it down.
Chapter Seventeen
New allegations of misuse of campaign funds plague Senator Reynolds . . .