“Then I’ll stop checking on you in two days.”
I head for the door, knowing this is the absolute right thing to do, even though it’s the last thing I want to do. I pull open the door, and then turn back over my shoulder. “What would you do if I kissed you right now?”
Andi’s lips part, a breath whooshing out of them. “I’d hate you even more than I already do.”
“Because you know you’d love it.” And with that, I close the door and stride to my car.
It’s only once my car hits I-93 south that I finally exhale. That was reckless. That was stupid. That was classic Brandon Nix, thinking I can say whatever I want and do whatever I want to get whatever I want.
I’m just like my sister.
It occurs to me that maybe I am. Except instead of being addicted to pain pills, I’m very quickly becoming addicted to a certain blonde referee who doesn’t put up with my bullshit.
If you’d offered me a million dollars at any point between the moment Andi gave me my red card and right now, I would not have predicted ending up at this point, unable to keep her out of my thoughts. Wondering what she tastes like. Wondering what she feels like.
I need to stop this right now.
Andi doesn’t need a horn-dog soccer player trying to get into her pants. She needs a friend to check on her just to make sure she’s okay.
I can be that friend. It might kill me, but I can do it.
The next two days are carbon copies, with the exception of Andi trying to sniff me. I stay far enough away from her that she’s not tempted. Or maybe it’s because I don’t think I’m strong enough to resist her temptation.
And at least once a night, she tells me she hates me, but from the twinkle in her eyes, I can tell she doesn’t mean it. At least not anymore.
“You know, I really think I’m fine now. I haven’t had a headache since yesterday. Surely, I’m out of the danger zone. Or at least the zone where I need a babysitter.”
“I’m not your babysitter. I’m just a fr—”
Andi quickly puts a finger over my lips, preventing me from finishing my sentence. “Don’t. We’re not friends. We can’t be friends. It’s a conflict of interest.”
I hold still, knowing if I move a muscle, it would be to take her finger in my mouth. I’m guessing she won’t like that. Or more likely, she will, and that will be even worse. Then slowly, very slowly, she starts to trace the outline of my lips with a delicate touch.
Holy fuck, I could come from just that.
I stare into her blue eyes. We both feel the shift in the air. I snake one of my hands up to the back of her neck. I lean in and lower my lips to hers. They’re warm and inviting, tasting like cinnamon and home. After a few moments of intermingled tongues and breath, I pull back. If I don’t stop now, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to.
“What changed for you?” I ask, my words coming in staccato pants.
“You’re not who I thought you were.”
What does she mean by that?“I’m exactly who I say I am. I don’t pretend to be anything I’m not.”
“You don’t pretend, but you hide.”
I pull back a little. “I’m out in the open on everything. I say what I think, pretty much at all times.”
“You hide behind that persona so no one gets to know the real you.”
Now I take a step back. Then another one. “That’s bullshit. This is me. If you don’t like it, leave it.”
“You’re in my place. You’re the one who should leave.” She folds her arms across her chest, eyes blazing.
“You’re right, I should. And I will.” I’m across her small floor in about three steps. I turn back to take one final look at her when I see the pattern of my red hair tie peeping through the messy blonde knot on the top of her head.
Damn, why is that so sexy?
One look at her face tells me she’s not in the mood for any more frisky business, so I mentally tell my dick to calm down.
