Page 48 of Fighting Spirit

“I’m sorry.” I don’t know what else to say. He missed me? I figured he would be relieved not to be bombarded by all my bullshit. I’ve missed him, I’ve spent almost as much time trying not to think about him as I ever did texting him, but that’s just what I’m like. I get fixated on the shiny new friendship until they decide they’re sick of me, or I’m too much, too clingy, and they ditch me.

“I’m the one who should be sorry. I never should’ve said what I did.”

“It’s okay-”

“It’s not. It was fucked up. I didn’t mean it, and I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

His blue gaze sears through me like a physical force pinning me to the wall. There’s a slight bruise on his chin from where he must have taken a knock during the game. His hair is damp with sweat, the moisture turning it more brown than auburn, the strands curling around his face.

I sigh. “I know you didn’t mean it.” He was just saying what he was seeing, even if it wasn’t the full picture, and I let all my own shit turn his statement into something it wasn’t. “But I appreciate you apologizing.”

He shrugs half-heartedly. “I wish you would’ve let me do it sooner.”

“I’ve just been really swamped with classes and stuff. And you know, like practice and- yeah just, just really busy.”

He stares down at me, letting me talk myself out. By the time I’m done, it’s sunk in how totally cutting him off, not hearing his side, or even trying to make things right was extremely shittyof me. It just never occurred to me that my absence would be something that bothered him.

“I’m sorry,” I say again, cheeks flaming.

“Just text me tomorrow and we’ll call it even.” His smile is small but it cracks something inside me open.

“I will.”

He pauses for a moment. “How’s your ass?”

A laugh bursts out of me.

“I, uh-I just meant that it looked like a nasty fall out there.”

I didn’t realize he’d seen it. It had been right as he was taking the snap.

“Nah, just my ego that hurts.”

“I don’t think anybody noticed.”

I just raise an eyebrow at him, calling bullshit. He responds with another shoulder scratch.

“Well, probably not that many people. They were all watching the field.”

“You noticed.”

He doesn’t say anything to that, but I don’t miss the way his ears turn pink at the tips. I change the subject, cutting him some slack. “I guess I should congratulate you. You were pretty good out there.”

“Youguessyou should?” he teases.

“Rivalries run deep, I guess.” I try to keep a straight face, but I can feel the corner of my mouth kick up.

“You really get into all that?”

“Of course!” I say with mock affront. “I take my job as an Allbreck ambassador very seriously.”

“Is that why you’ve been fraternizing with the enemy?”

Is he flirting? If I didn’t know better, it would sound a hell of a lot like he’s flirting with me. I kind of like it.

“Is that what we’re doing?”

His mouth drops open and I can practically see the gears turning as he mulls over my question. Our eyes lock and something sparks.

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