Page 85 of The Captain

I was instantly attracted to her, her soft-spoken way and reluctance to engage with me had intrigued me after months of girls throwing themselves at me. I’d wanted to talk to her all night and managed to do so, until beer pong had made me an idiot and I’d gotten way too drunk.

I glanced at Cassie that night, the way she sat stiffly on the barstool, clearly uncomfortable about where her night had gone, and I leaned down a little closer.

“So, what did you think?”

My voice seemed to startle her, and she jumped, looking over at me. “Think of what?”

I bit my lip and nodded my thanks at the bartender and Crew for the beer as he chatted up Vic, keeping her busy even as her eyes roamed the bar. “The game. The whole Mickey thing.”

She nodded as if she knew that’s what I was talking about. Maybe she just needed a minute to answer after the abrupt question. Did she seriously think I wasn’t going to try and talk to her?

“Congratulations on the win, Lincoln. And I’m glad you and Mick worked it out.” Her tone was almost monotone and made my skin crawl with unease.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, wondering what the hell I was going to say to make this better.

“Sunshine,” I started, lowering my voice and leaning in closer so we didn’t get overheard. “I’m sorry.” My voice was hoarse with emotion, and I watched her bite her lip, a frown forming between her brows. She was gripping her untouched beer in her right hand, her left hand clutching her thigh.

Still, she wouldn’t look at me.

“Sunshine,” I said again, waiting for her eyes to connect with mine. When they did, I felt my knees buckle with the hurt and sadness that was in them. “Please. Cassie, I’m sorry.”

“I know you are, Lincoln.” Her voice was so low that I was practically touching her forehead with my own just to hear her. “I know you are.”

“Okay, okay, good. I’m not going to let you down, I swear.” Relief swept through me at her confirmation, but then she pulled back.

“It doesn’t change anything.”

She could have punched me in the gut, and it would have hurt less. “What?”

“I can’t do this.”

Abruptly, she stood, leaving the untouched beer, and rushed toward the bar’s exit to make a quick escape.

I didn’t hesitate to take off after her, bursting behind her through the door into the still-cold spring air.

I reached out when I was right behind her, grasping her hand in mine, and I turned her to face me. “Cassie, wait.”

“No. I can’t.” Cassie’s bottom lip trembled, her free hand going up to her mouth to cover it, ripping her other hand from mine, leaving my hand hanging in the air, desperate to hold on to her.

“Please, don’t leave.” I gestured back toward the bar, my breath coming out in puffs. I was sure desperation was written all over my face. “I won’t bring it up again, I’m sorry. Just…don’t leave.”

“I don’t even want to be here, Lincoln. I’m not staying.”

I bit my lip hard until I could practically taste blood. “Well.” I ran a hand over my head. “When are you coming back to tutoring?”

She frowned at me like I was crazy, crossing her arms over her chest. “What?”

“Tutoring. I need you.”

Finally, a little spark of the Cassie I knew showed through—anger and maybe more hurt.

Fuck. I was tired of hurting her. “I’m not going to tutor you anymore.”

My stomach dropped. “What?”

“You got a new tutor.”

“Temporarily.” At least, that’s what Coach had told me. That Cassie had temporary obligations, so he got me someone else.

---