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My spine snaps straight and indignance fills me. “What?” I narrow my eyes and launch into my tirade without waiting for his response. “No, never mind. It doesn’t matter because I am wearing this. I am going out.”
I try and step around him, but Landon doesn’t move. If I want out, our bodies are going to touch. It feels like a big risk. Especially since he’s not happy with me right now.
“Where are you going?” His question sounds deadly, as if I’m standing on the edge of a cliff and the wind is howling and raging with enough force to send me over if I’m not careful.
I don’t want to be careful. Not anymore. I’ve been careful. I’ve tiptoed around him. I’ve done his bidding and stood by his side, even if only professionally.
I scoff, “I don’t answer to you, Landon.”
I brush past him, no longer caring if I touch him in the process. Who the hell does he think he is? I want to scream at him, but I don’t. I want to curse him until I’m blue in the face, but I don’t.
I should.
Before I can slip out of the bathroom completely, Landon grabs my wrist, and my eyes snap up to his. There’s a fire there, but I don’t have time to analyze it. I need to escape.
“If you need me,” Landon’s eyes take me in before a grim expression settles on his face, the next words sounding thicker, “you call me.”
I give a curt nod and when I pull away, he lets me. It’s not easy, especially as I feel Landon’s eyes bore into me, but I don’t look back over my shoulder. I grab my stuff and head out, not letting myself linger any longer than I need to. I’m a little bit afraid he’s going to come after me.
What the hell was that look about?
I shake it off as I hop into a taxi and head over to the restaurant where I’m meeting my friends for dinner. It takes me too long to shake the feeling of Landon’s eyes on me and the feeling of being around him. I swear I need a hyperbaric chamber, but for my damn hormones whenever I need to reintegrate into situations after I’ve spent even the shortest amount of time with him.
It's not okay the way my body responds to him. He’s made it very clear nothing is going to happen between us.
Whether I want it to or not doesn’t matter. It can’t matter. The ache in my chest feels unbearable.
The moment I climb out of the taxi, I have one of those moments when I wonder how the fuck I got from point A to point B. I don’t get the chance to dwell on it before I’m being engulfed in a hug from Celeste. Looking over her shoulder, Ezra is standing there. His size is imposing, especially with his arms crossed across his chest. It’s the smile on his face which gives him away.
You could write the man off as just some jock or even some grumpy bastard, but you’d be wrong. He has a smile for pretty much everyone and a big heart of gold to go along with it.
Celeste grumbles, “I wish Stella was with us tonight.”
I pout as I pull away from my friend. “I know, but you know she works too damn hard. We’ll have to make sure she shows up next month.”
“She’s not getting out of it,” Ezra states without a hint of amusement in his voice.
Before I can say anything, I’m being pulled into his big, strong arms. I sink into him. For so long, Ezra has been like the big brother I never knew I needed and kind of didn’t want. There has never been anything more than that between us.
When he lets me go enough, I tip up and kiss his cheek. My voice is bright, and my smile is genuine, “Congratulations on your championship season, Ezra!”
He smirks down at me and raises his eyebrow in challenge, “Have you watched a single game?”
“Uh,” I glance away and wince. Scrunching my nose, I look back up at him from underneath my eyelashes. “I tried. I just don’t understand what the hell I’m watching.”
He shakes his head and laughs before kissing the top of my head and leading me into the restaurant with Celeste trailing us. He grumbles, “It’s not that difficult.”
I scoff and give his chest a playful swat, but he probably doesn’t even feel it considering how fucking big his muscles are. “I know you’re the goalie, doesn’t that count for something?” He gives me an amused, oh isn’t she so cute kind of look and I can only roll my eyes. “I know the Storm kicked major ass?”
I pose it as a question, but it really isn’t. They brought the championship back home to New York and Ezra played a major part in their victory. I might not know much, but I know he’s the last line of defense.
He rolls his eyes and beckons me to walk ahead of him when the hostess leads us to our table, Celeste looping her arm through mine as we follow behind. She leans into me and wiggles her eyebrows, dropping her voice to a whisper, “How’s it going at work with your sexy boss?”
I groan under my breath. For all of five minutes I was able to forget about Landon Sullivan and the things he makes me want and feel. I shake my head and give a noncommittal shrug, but I’m sure it just makes me look slightly deranged.
I know my feelings are my own problem, but even as I try and shake it off to enjoy the celebration with some of my oldest friends, the feel of his fingertips brushing the skin on my back haunts me.
