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“I don’t want to talk about this,” he whispers.
I take another step toward him. “I do.”
Seth shakes his head. “I hate talking about my feelings.”
“So you have feelings for me?”
Seth doesn’t say anything, but something twists over his face: pain, frustration, longing. I wish he would look at me. “I’m straight,” Seth says insistently. I don’t know who he’s trying to prove that to; me or himself? He shakes his head and looks up at me, forcing a smile that looks pained. “You don’t need to worry about anything, Alex. I’m straight.”
“I wasn’t questioning your sexuality.”
“I love Rachel.”
“I know that,” I say, taking another step toward him.
Seth bangs his head against the locker, not too hard, but loud enough for it to echo in the room. He stares at me as if it’s painful and I hate that look. I wish there were something I could do to make him feel better, but I feel stuck. Rachel told me Seth has feelings for me, but he isn’t saying it. He looks upset.
“I know you care for Rachel,” I say, choosing my words carefully. “I’m only wondering why you kissed me in the first place.”
If only he would say the words.
Seth chuckles. “Well, I don’t hate you anymore if that’s what you want to know.”
I stifle the need to groan. We’re going around in circles. Maybe it’s too soon. Maybe he still needs to figure things out. All of this was a mistake, just like the kiss. Fuck. I don’t even remember what I wanted out of this talk in the first place. I feel like a girl pressing her boyfriend for those three magical words.
Seth grabs his shoes, shoving them onto his feet without untying them. I watch him jump up, his usual confident smile on his face, but I can tell he’s forcing it. He’s acting like everything is fine, when it’s not.
“Don’t worry,” he says while patting my shoulder, his head tilting to the side. “I won’t kiss you again. It was a brief lapse in judgment. That’s all.”
“Okay,” I say with a nod, but that hardly makes me feel better. My whole body is twisting with pain at his words. My hands fist and I suddenly want to punch the wall. I should be happy, but I’m not. What’s up with that?
“So, we’re good then?” I ask while Seth grabs his coat and shoves his arms inside, trying not to wonder what those fingers would feel like on my lips, my cheek, my chest. “We can go back to being friends? You’re not going to run away from me anymore?”
Seth chuckles and shakes his head. “We’re cool, bro, but no promises on the running away part. I’m a track star after all.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t think I won’t catch up to you,” I say while grabbing my coat. Seth’s eyes follow me. Has he always watched me? I don’t think so. At least I never noticed before. It has me feeling self-conscious and I can’t tell if I hate it or love it. My body shivers and I shake my head, trying to regain my sense of calm as I follow Seth toward the door.
Everything seems fine, but I can’t help but notice the sadness in Seth’s smile, or how the fire is gone from his eyes. My hands twitch, wanting to pull him close, wrap my arms around him, brush my lips against his temple. Fuck. Something has changed inside me. I don’t think it’s just from that kiss. I feel like it’s always been there, but the match has finally been struck, igniting the inferno raging inside me.
My gaze drifts to his lips, recalling how cool and soft they felt against my own. It had barely been a kiss. Nothing to write home about, yet I can’t get it out of my mind. It’s in my dreams, waking and sleeping, and I hate that Seth has decided it meant nothing.
What does this mean? I clench my jaw and try to pay attention to the chilly air and the ice on the sidewalk as I walk next to Seth, my gaze shifting to him and those lips.
Chapter 27
HUNTER
It’sfinallyDecember.We’reto play the last game of the year—of the season. We didn’t make it into the Super Bowl. I shouldn’t blame myself, but I do. If only I trained more and drank less, maybe we could have made it. Flurries cascade down and melt on my uniform. I shiver, goose bumps forming on my arms despite spending the last two hours running up and down this field, practicing my throws and catches. Like that’s really going to help. Even if we do win this game, it doesn’t matter. We’re out. I don’t even know why we have to play.
I grit my teeth as I stare down at the frost on the dyed grass. There was a time I lived and breathed football, but now I can barely get out of bed. That might be the alcohol lingering in my system. There are still several bottles around my bed. I can’t give it up. I don’t think I ever will, not when I am this far away from Dr. Forrester. Not when I worry about cameras catching me coming and going from AA.
I chuckle to myself. Most likely the cameras have already caught me going in and out of my local liquor store. I don’t know which is worse. Or maybe I’m so far off the radar they don’t care. It’s not like I’m the star of the team, like Brody. I don’t understand how someone like him can be so popular, but I suppose fans only support what they see. They don’t know the real him.
I stifle a groan as I try to listen. Coach is going on and on about scrimmage again, but I can hardly pay attention due to the ringing in my ears. I blink, the blurriness in my vision remaining. My thighs hurt from kneeling so long. I can barely keep myself balanced. My body won’t stop swaying back and forth. I catch Brody’s smirk across the way. He caresses the helmet in his hands. His gaze returns to Coach, standing in the middle of us, going on and on about how this is our last game of the season and how we could have made something of ourselves. Coach’s gaze slides to me and I know what awaits me after this season.
I’m going to be traded. But do I really care? These days, I think not. Being an NFL star really isn’t what I expected and I’m starting to suspect something inside me changed, or maybe I simply had high expectations. Maybe both. I don’t like being this far away from Rachel, and though she supports my career choices, I don’t think I know what I want anymore.
I do know I want to be with her.
