Page 47 of The Games We Play

He pulls the emergency first aid kit from under the sink and I smirk at the memory of the time Ryan and I were climbing the huge tree out back and I fell from two limbs up. Mom was here then, and she bandaged my knee even though I told her it didn’t hurt. As soon as we were alone and away from Ryan’s parents, she yelled at me for even climbing the tree in the first place and said I’d ruined her and Dad’s weekend.

Some childhood memory.

Mr. Collins carefully pushes around my temple, and I hiss when he hits an extremely sensitive spot. He opens some antiseptic and cleans the area with small, gentle strokes. I’m acutely aware of how close he is. His chest brushes against my shoulder and he smells like cinnamon and citrus.

The hair on my nape rises as his exhaled breath blows across my cheek. Carefully, he cups my cheek and chin, angling my head to the side as he steps closer between my legs. I can’t breathe, not with him this close.

“Ryan said we’re leaving this morning?” I say, desperate to break up the electrified space between us, recalling last night’s conversation in the hot tub. Apparently, Mr. Collin’s work call couldn’t wait.

Mr. Collins clears his throat and reaches around me for the butterfly strips. “I’d assume he isn’t too happy with me,” he admits, and his voice sounds sad…in a way.

I shrug, because I can’t lie.

“That’s what I figured.” He pulls the adhesive bandage back and leans in closely, placing one on the end of my cut. His lips are at eye level and they’re parted slightly in his concentration. “Maybe I’ll quit,” he muses and leans back to grab a second bandage. “Then he’d get tired of me being around all the time.”

“I don’t believe that,” I say and Mr. Collins gives a half-hearted chuckle.

“You’re good for him, Tess. You’ve been a great friend.”

I smile softly and drop my gaze to fidget with my fingers. My heart rate picks up as he leans in again and places the second strip. “He’s my best friend,” I say quietly, and Mr. Collins stays close, long after finishing dressing my cut.

His blue eyes flick between mine. They’re piercing and like they captivate every detail, leaving nothing to get lost or forgotten. Heat radiates from his hand splayed on my thigh and his fingers twitch ever so slightly.

My chest rises and falls in shallow succession. He’s drawn me in like a hypnotist. I can’t move, can’t breathe, and as his fingers tighten on myleg, I glance down at his perfectly sculpted mouth and know that I’m going to kiss him.

“What’s going on?” Ryan asks, and I jump, causing Mr. Collins to hit the cut with his forehead. I hiss and bite my bottom lip as I lean back, putting distance between me and Ryan’s dad. “Tess? What the hell happened to you?”

“I fell,” I state lamely.

“Where? When?”

Mr. Collins steps away, and Ryan takes his spot, and I push him away.

“I don’t remember. I’m fine.” Hopping off the barstool, I sway slightly, but recover before anyone notices.

“Well, sit down and I’ll get you a plate,” Mr. Collins orders. “Ryan, can you get her some orange juice?”

I risk a glance at Mr. Collin’s back.

What would have happened if Ryan hadn’t stepped in?

Did Mr. Collins feel what I did just now? Or am I some delusional girl who just made all of it up?

***

After Mr. Collins gota call that he couldn’t put off, we packed up at the lake house and left before supper. Ryan was quiet as he drove me home. He had been since his dad took that call.

“Are you okay?” I ask as I stand with the passenger door open, Roxy already racing around the yard from the two-hour drive.

“I was stupid to expect anything less,” Ryan states and sighs.

“Ryan,” I say, trying to think of a way to make him feel better.

“I’m fine, Tess. Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you around.” He waits for me to close the door, then backs out of my driveway.

I feel defeated as I walk inside my house and slump onto the couch. From hallucinating X, to getting extremely too close to Mr. Collins, to watching the light in my best friend’s eye get snuffed out with one phone call, I’m exhausted. I glance at my phone, reading the text I sent X.

I smile as excitement and anticipation blooms in my core of what he has in store for me when he shows up tonight.

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