Page 138 of Sidelined


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We’re nothing more than acquaintances, and after seeing what he did to Keene and Aspen, I have no problem keeping it that way.

Silence once again lingers between us as we reach the end of the path, dead-ending right into the set of steps leading up to Avery’s cabin. I take them two at a time, reaching the top in two strides, and begin unlocking the door.

“You and I will both have a master key, meaning the key I’m giving you unlocks not only your cabin, but all the other cabins on this path.”

“Including your cabin?”

The question gives me enough pause to stop what I’m doing. Because I sure as hell hadn’t thought about that.

Fucking wonderful.

“I said all the cabins, didn’t I?” I manage to grind out before flicking the lock out of place and shoving the door open for him to walk in.

On the other side, a double bed, lounge chair, and nightstand between the two take up the majority of the cabin’s footprint. There’s a small built-in coat rack behind the door, as well as a few cubbies to store clothes, shoes, and toiletries.

As simple and understated on the inside as it is on the outside—though it’s actually one of the nicer cabins on the property. It’s one of the last ones added before last summer, when we got the funding to expand the program, allowing us to almost double the number of kids able to attend this season.

I drop his key on the tiny hook beside the door and lean against the threshold, watching Avery like a hawk as he quietly glances around the space.

“This is it?” he asks while setting his bags on the bed.

Something between incredulity and disgust leaks from his tone, and it instantly grates on my nerves. I shouldn’t be surprised this style of living wouldn’t be up to his standards. When he heard the word cabin, no doubt he thought of some fancy ski chalet in Aspen or Park City, not the tiny one-room style those of us without money think of.

The fact that he has to walk a few hundred yards to the bathroom or won’t be able to send all his clothes out to be laundered will be a rude awakening for him.

“Home sweet home for the next ten weeks.”

A low groan comes from him as he runs his fingers through his golden locks. “If I survive that long.”

More irritation courses through me, and I’ve just about had it with his bullshit. Which is why I’m not surprised I can’t keep my thoughts to myself a moment longer.

“What the hell are you doing here, Avery?”

The frankness of my question must take him off guard, because he freezes instantly, those sky blues locking with mine. And for the briefest moment, I think I see something alluding to uncertainty in their depths.

“Look, I wasn’t aware—”

“Save it,” I snap, cutting him off. “I asked what the hell you’re doing here. That’s all I wanna know.”

Biting his head off must snap him out of whatever stupor he briefly fell into, and then on a dime, the fighter in him comes out with a vengeance.

“Why’re you coming at me like this?” he snarls. “If one of us should be pissed at the other, it’s me. Because you were the one who got me kicked out of Foltyn, not the other way around.”

“You got yourself kicked out.”

Something between a snort and a laugh comes from him; a clear attempt to make little of my accusation. Too bad for him, all it does is light a fire under my ass.

“Try and brush it off. Blame me if you want. But what you did was wrong,” I bite out, arms crossing over my chest. “It’s not my fault you can’t own it or take responsibility for your actions.”

A sneer takes over his face; one I can only describe as vicious and feral. Anger and even a little hatred swimming in his glare as he crosses the room to me, getting up in my face like his proximity does anything to intimidate me.

“In case you didn’t realize, I’ve done everything in my power to make it right. With Coach. With the school admin. And with Keene.”

I knew he texted Keene to apologize, but I hadn’t gotten many more details out of our catcher than that. Then again, he’s been holed up all summer, licking the wounds the fucker in front of me inflicted on him in the first place.

“And an apology is supposed to just magically make the fact that you outed not one, but two people, better?” I scoff and shake my head, knowing full well it doesn't. “Why’d you even do it, anyway?”

The sneer on his face deepens, and if even possible, he steps in closer. Close enough for me to catch a whiff of his cologne or body spray or whatever the hell he wears. Ocean salt and some sort of citrus, and it makes my stomach flip unexpectedly before a buzzing feeling sets in. It feels eerily like…butterflies. Even in the midst of whatever kind of showdown we’re having.

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