I push his cheeks with all the force I can muster, making him pop out the other side. I climb up after him right as he’s dusting himself off, doing the same thing with my shoulders and getting my upper bodythrough.
“Okay, I’m gonna need some help.”
He nods, and now it’s his turn to grab onto my wrists, leaning backward and trying to pull me through.
My ass gets stuck. Of-fucking-course. I’m wholly, completely incapable of holding back the snicker that escapes my throat, and Dean’s exasperated expression is what gets me to break into actual laughter.
“What?” he asks, the corners of his mouth quivering.
He’s smiling. Huh. Maybe he doesn’t hate me.
“You, uh, gotta pull harder,” I say after a few seconds.
“Iam. Your lower half is blocking things.”
Mylower half.The acknowledgement gets me to smirk. “Aww, are you saying I'm caked up? I’m so flattered.”
“Not the time, man,” he groans through a smile. “Here, let me try something. Stretch your arms out toward me.”
I do, and he hooks his hands under my pits and braces his feet against the wall, walking up, tugging hard, and letting gravity do the heavy lifting. Or pulling—maybe “lifting” isn’t the right word?—
I break free from the window, and we both tumble onto the grass. I land on top of him, his athletic frame doing nothing to soften the impact, and I scramble to push myself off in case that’s another mixed signal I can send.
But not before the feeling of his pecs digging into mine have a chance to imprint and linger.
Huh.
“Thanks for the help,” I say, offering a hand.
“No problem. Let’s get out of here?”
I nod, and we dart behind the bar, away from the police cars out front, and cut through the woods until we emerge onto a random road.
“We’re clear, right?” he asks, pulling the phone out.
I avert my eyes to give him some privacy. He reads through the thread and scoffs.
“Just messaging my friend Claire,” he says. “She’s your teammate Oscar’s sister.”
I shove my hands in my pockets. “Oh, nice.”
So that’s why we ran into each other tonight.
We fall into an uncomfortable silence, walking aimlessly along the road, and the plummeting temperature sinks beneath my light jacket. Unease coils in my gut. I don’t know where I stand with Dean. Heseemsfine with me, but that doesn’t change how I definitely left him with blue balls and a bruised ego.
The right thing for me to do would be to apologize for being…me. As usual.
“Again, sorry for freaking out yesterday,” I blurt out. “I got scared.”
Both of us stop walking, turning to face each other from opposite sides of the sidewalk.
His brow is furrowed, and he’s biting the inside of his lips, pushing his mouth to one side. “You’re not the one who needs to apologize. I’m the one who misread shit and, like, made you push me off.”
The hell? It’s me who was stupid enough to lead him on while hoping my deep-seated quirks would somehow fly away?
I try for a little levity. “Don’t say sorry. I’m half-Canadian, so that’s my job.”
He shakes his head. “This isn’t funny. I genuinely feel sofuckingbad.”
