Page 58 of Lines

“I guess I am. It doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice.”

His eyes lift to meet mine. For a few seconds, he only stares at me. “You’ve never been to a game.”

“That’s what I said earlier.” I roll my eyes at him. “Hockey isn’t really my thing.”

I don’t know where he’s going with this conversation, but I’m not really in the mood to find out. Maybe Brook is right after all. Maybe Derek is jealous of Max. Derek doesn’t seem like a guy who likes to share his favorite toys with anybody. And I guess, right now, I’m his favorite toy.

“No.” He shakes his head. “What I meant is I’ve never seen you at a game.”

“Why would you see me at the game?” I chuckle uncomfortably. “Apart from the fact I’ve never been to one, it’s not like you were looking around for me.”

“I would have seen you if you came.” He crosses those few steps that are keeping us at a distance and stands right in front of me, pressing me against the desk I’m standing next to. His hands reach forward, fingers touching a strand of my hair. “There is no way somebody could miss this hair, even in the crowd.”

Disengaging it from his fingers I scowl at him. “I’m not in the mood for your teasing.”

“I’m not teasing, little one.” His voice is filled with amusement. “You hair has a life of its own. It’s always shining brightly. Kind of reminds me of fire.”

“Fire?”

“Yeah.” He takes another strand and lifts it in the air so that sunlight shines over it. “Bright. Warm. Wild.”

I swallow hard, trying to press down the lump formed in my throat. His voice is light, but his eyes are looking at me with so much intensity it’s almost too hard to take.

“Why now?” When I don’t answer him immediately, he continues. “Why are you going to do something you don’t like for him?”

“He asked me,” I whisper.

“Would you have come if I asked you?”

His question hangs in the air between us, filling the empty room with so much tension in the air it can be sliced with a knife.

“I–,” my voice sounds barely audible and rough, so I take a second to clear it and collect my toughs. “I don’t know.”

That’s the honest to god answer. I don’t know, but I don’t think I would go. Derek is confusing me so much I don’t know what to think, much less do.

“Why is it important?” I ask him defensively. “I’m going tomorrow.”

“But you are going because of him!”

His fingers go through his hair in frustration, leaving a mess out of it.

“I’m going. Isn’t that the point of this whole conversation?” I yell loudly.

God, he’s frustrating me so much! What does he want from me? I really don’t understand guys. They always complicate things so much, and then blame it on girls! He has never been nice to me, never invited me to a single thing. On good days, he ignored me. And now that other guy asks me to go somewhere or do something, he has the nerve to be angry?

“No!” he shouts back at me. Then he takes deep, calming breath in before continuing. “The point is that I don’t want you to go for him.”

We’ve moved so close to each other in our anger that our chests are touching, our breathing heavy and our faces are so close to each other we are sharing the same air. “The point is,” he swallows audibly, making his Adam’s apple move with motion, “I want you to be there for me.”

I laugh, but it sounds bitter. “Maybe if you weren’t so busy flirting with other girls you’d find time to ask me in the first place.” My hand flies to cover my mouth, but it’s too late. The words already left my mouth, and almost instantly I regret saying them.

I move as to dodge him, but his reflexes are fast and he has me caged between the desk and his big frame. “I want to go.”

“Shame, ‘cause we are not done here.”

“You can’t keep me here!” I try to push him away, but he doesn’t move an inch.

“Watch me.” His smile’s smug, and it’s irritating me even more. “Now let’s back up a bit, you are acting all pissy at me because of the girls?”

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