Page 116 of Jaded

“Kinda, yeah.” I opt not to mention that when it ends badly, I’ll be the one with my little heart trampled. “I mean, either way, you’re out of my league.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Nat murmurs, and his mouth slants in half a smile. “There is no way I would ever think that after what happened last night.”

I roll my eyes to cover the way my face wants to melt into a smile. I puff out one last sigh.

“I’ll be honest,” I say, and I realize I am going to be honest. “I’m simultaneously an all-in kind of guy and an ‘I’m terrified and have no idea what I want’ kind of guy.”

“What does that mean?”

I cast my gaze up to study the ceiling, and say the thing I desperately don’t want to say. “I don’t do sex without feelings. And just . . . I guess I need you to know that.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. You don’t need to say anything.” I hold my hands up like a physical defense against any quick rebuttal he might be about to unleash. “I guess . . . I fall fast, so it’s probably good for me to take things slow?”

“Okay,” he says, and his mouth softens into a genuine smile. “I understand that. Entirely.”

For some reason, that fills the big hollow cavity of my chest with a weightless sort of warmth.

“Besides.” Nat’s voice goes rough, in a way that makes my stomach plunge towards my toes. “We both know you’re not here to stay.”

How can words be both heavy and blunt and light and sharp all at once? But they are, and he’s right—we both know I’m going to choose my lifelong dream over anything that might happen between us.

“Right,” I say. “Which is why, maybe, we should be friends first?”

“Is that what you want?” he asks, his brows curving into a slightly inverse arch that I might label as concern.

“Yes. I do.” And it’s true. I do want to be his friend, first and foremost.

“Safer,” Nat says, his brows relaxing into their usual soft arch. “We’ll take it slow.”

“Right.” But when has anything about me ever beensafe? Or slow? Darkness and doubt tug at the fringes of my soul.

Maybe that’s why I redirect the conversation. “We’re hitting the road later—three away games.”

He smiles, but it’s a little too tight. “Gonna win ’em all?”

He bends over to find his pants, and I force myself to get dressed too. To concentrate on the important things ahead.

Maybe if I look ahead, keep moving forward, the darkness won't catch me.

We’re riding high on victory and success. We’ve been on a winning streak for weeks now. All our lines are in tune, our synergy honed to a fine edge. The crowd loves us, supports us. And we’ve even started to garner out-of-town support via social media.

I won't let the knocking darkness bring all that down. “Damn straight, Mouse.”

Chapter 28

Olli

Thedarknessissuchan uncanny, unpredictable beast.

Sometimes you feel it lurking, sneaking up like a predator stalking you through the grass. You’re aware of its presence, the bending grass and snapping twigs, and that’s when you whip out your mantras or your positive self-talk or your gratitude meditations.

And sometimes it just pounces. Soundless, echoless, unseen. Nowhere and then everywhere, all at once.

I wake two mornings later to blinding sunlight spilling through the wide windows of yet another hotel room, and I know.

I've felt it stalking me for weeks, but here it is at last.

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