Page 18 of Make My Heart Malt

I throw my hands up in frustration. “It was propping the door open because it’s broken, and once it’s closed, it can’t be opened from the inside.” I yank on the door againto no avail. Talking to Garrett was the last thing I wanted to do today, and being trapped in a room with him is even worse.

His face goes stoic. “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah. Oh, shit.”

“Let me try.” He nudges me out of the way and grips the handle. With every twist and yank, it still doesn’t move.

“Just because you’re a guy with big, rippling, strong muscles doesn’t mean you can magically open the locked door.” I can’t keep the sarcasm out of my tone.

He pulls the doorknob again. “I don’t need your snarky commentary. At least I’m trying.”

“If I wasn’t trapped in a storage closet with you, I wouldn’t need to be snarky,” I snap, clenching and unclenching my fists before continuing my quest to find my phone. As I scan the shelves, a purple glitter case catches my attention. “Found it!” I lift my phone in the air like it’s the Olympic torch. “I’ll call Jake and tell him to come and let us out.” I tap the screen, but nothing happens. My heart races as I repeatedly press the side buttons, but the screen remains dark. “Dammit. My phone’s dead. Where’s yours?”

He pats his pockets, then peers up at me as trepidation fills his eyes. “In my car.”

“Are you kidding me?” I spit. “Who leaves their phone in their car?”

“Who leaves their phone dead in a storage room?”

My gaze jerks to his, and my eyes narrow into fiery slits. “I don’t need your attitude right now. We’re going to be stuck in here until morning.”

His fists pound on the door.

I roll my eyes. “It’s useless. No one can hear you.”

Slowly, his fist connects with the metal door one last time in defeat.

I slump against the corner of a shelf. The metal digs into my back, but I don’t care. I’m trapped in a storage room with Garrett fucking Dawson. I want to scream, but it’ll be a wasted effort. “This is your fault. Why did you have to follow me? Better yet, why did you even come here?”

He spins around to face me. “Maybe if you talked to me when we were outside of the storage room, we wouldn’t be here.” The hum of the florescent lights echoes through the room. “And how was I supposed to know a piece of wood I accidentally kicked was propping the door open because the doorknob is broken?”

“Don’t shift the blame on me,” I scold.

“Also, if you didn’t forget your phone in the storage room, which is clearly something you still do, we wouldn’t be in this mess. Two strikes for you.”

Oh, hell no. Now he’s turned this personal. “I don’t always lose my phone.”

He laughs, lightening the mood slightly. “How many times did you forget it in my car in high school?”

I scoff, crossing my arms and shifting my gaze away from him. “That’s not the point.”

“I think I proved my point perfectly.”

“Don’t be so smug.”

He shrugs. “Actually, this is kind of perfect. Now you can’t run away from me.” He finds a five-gallon bucket in the far corner and tips it upside down. Before sitting, he pulls his hoodie over his head. His shirt rides up, exposing a sliver of tan skin and a delightful happy trail that disappears in the waistband of his jeans.

I jerk my gaze away, praying he didn’t catch me. Don’t get distracted by the sexy baseball player. “What don’t you understand? I don’t want to talk.” Stomping to the opposite side of the room, I pivot my shoulder so I’mfacing away from him. I need all the space I can get so I don’t reach out and strangle him.

“Stop being so stubborn.”

I eye him over my shoulder. “I’m not stubborn. I’m standing my ground.”

He props his elbows on his knees and scrubs his hands down his face. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“Hurt me?” I push off the shelf and square my shoulders. “You destroyed me. You left without saying a word. Not a single goodbye. Nothing. You just left. You were supposed to be my best friend, and you just left.” I pace from one side of the small room to the other. Apparently, the flood gate has opened. It was only a matter of time before I exploded. “I called and called, and you never answered. All my calls went to voicemail. All three hundred and twenty of them. Yes, I kept count. Yes, I’m pathetic because I hoped my best friend would pick up the phone and talk to me. And you returned none of them. Nothing. Just shut me out. Forgot about me. Eventually, I stopped when I realized the number was disconnected.” I blow out a deep breath, willing the tears welling up in the corners of my eyes not to fall. “You didn’t even invite me to your draft party. We were best friends. I would have been happy for you, celebrated with you, but you pretended like I no longer existed. I had to hear about it from Kristen! Who was not subtle in her bragging.”

He jumps to his feet, jaw clenching. “It was a big night for me. I didn’t want to spend it being fucking miserable because I’d have to see Tony’s arm around you the entire night!” His head tilts toward the ceiling and he blows out a deep breath. “I didn't invite her. That was Tony's doing.”

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