Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 95545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Across the room are two arched doorways. I imagine one is a walk-in closet, and the other is a private en suite. The place resembles a tiny apartment. The walls are dotted with football memorabilia and more framed photographs. Some are in color, while others are in black and white. If Colton weren’t standing next to me, tracking my every movement, I’d take my time and stroll around the space, studying it with more care.
Unsure what to do, I separate myself from him and settle on the comfy couch. Instead of following me to the sitting area, he wanders to the desk before lounging against it. His easy stance belies the tension that crackles in the air between us.
I shift, unnervingly aware that his gaze is fastened on me. “Your parents are nice. I like them.”
“The feeling is mutual.” There’s a pause as remorse flickers across his expression. “I should have introduced you sooner.”
When I shrug, unwilling to dwell on our past, he shoves away from the desk, closing the distance between us before settling on the sofa. I gulp. It felt so much safer when he was standing on the other side of the room. He swivels his body toward me as one muscular arm stretches across the back of the cushion. His proximity has the tempo of my heart picking up speed. When I remain still, his fingers strum the gentle slope of my shoulder. Even though I’m wearing a light sweater, I feel the caress down to the tips of my toes. The heat of them singes my flesh, and a bevy of tingles erupt inside me before careening down my spine. No matter what has transpired between us, I can’t imagine there ever being a time when my body doesn’t react to him in such a manner. I might not want it, but that doesn’t matter. It’s not something that can be controlled.
My tongue darts out to moisten my parched lips as I search my mind for something to say. Something that will get us back on even terrain. The question is out of my mouth before I can stop it. “Earlier at dinner, when Jenna mentioned attending your game, you didn’t seem happy about it.”
The sexual energy that had been ratcheting up between us dissipates, and for that, I’m grateful. His muscles stiffen. Even though he glances away, his fingers stay connected to my shoulder. I can’t deny that part of me is thankful for killing the mood. I’m not ready for this to progress into something more.
When he remains silent, I begin to wonder if he’ll bother with a response. Maybe it’s better that way. If Colton can’t open up and talk to me about his feelings, then what’s the point of us going down this road again?
I didn’t intentionally set this up to be a test, but that’s what it’s turned out to be.
As I open my mouth to suggest we head downstairs, he drags his other hand through his blond hair as his gaze returns to mine. “I don’t want them attending because Coach benched me.”
No matter what I thought he might say, that wasn’t it. I’ve watched Colton on the football field all through high school and the first two years of college. He’s amazing. Solid. He could play in the NFL if that’s what he wanted.
All of the emotion swirling through me dissolves as I turn toward him, my hand settling on his thigh. “What happened? Were you injured?”
It’s obvious from the pinched expression that settles on his face that he’s reluctant to discuss the situation.
“No, it’s nothing like that. To be honest, I’m not sure what the problem is,” he mutters. “No matter what I do, I can’t seem to pull it together. And I really don’t want Jenna and my dad to make the trip to Wesley when it’s doubtful I’ll see much of the field. They’ll ask questions. And at the moment, I don’t have any answers.”
Sympathy floods through me as I squeeze his thigh. “I’m sorry.” Even though football and dance aren’t the same, I know what it’s like not to perform to the best of your ability. To know you can do better but, for whatever reason, aren’t able to tease it out. It’s both frustrating and scary because you don’t know if it’s a phase that will pass with enough time, or you’ve actually lost your edge. Once you meander down the road of self-doubt, it can be a real mindfuck. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I don’t think so.” He shakes his head as his gaze darts to mine. “It’s something I need to figure out for myself.”
When I’ve struggled in the past, I was lucky enough to have Mia by my side. Does Colton have anyone to unload on? Somehow, I can’t imagine him and Beck sitting around the apartment, doing a deep delve into their feelings. I find myself saying, “If you ever want to talk, I’m here.”