Page 105 of Let You Love Me

He glances down at me with a frown. “Should it not?”

“Of course. I just . . .” I snap my mouth closed, but he’s not letting me get off that easy. Instead, he pulls my hands closer to his chest, running the pad of his thumb over my knuckles in a dizzying rhythm.

Friends, Lane.

You’re friends.

It doesn’t matter.

“Did this conversation have anything to do with you refusing to go out with me this afternoon when I called?”

I shrug, saying nothing. He’s too damn perceptive for his own good.

“Lane.”

I exhale, my lungs shaking with the effort. “Maybe a little. It’s a reminder, one I needed. It’s important I remember that no matter how good of a friend you become, you’ll be leaving. Your future is elsewhere,” I say, even though I’m fooling myself. I already know that what I feel for Teagan is more than friendship.

All the more reason to keep him at arm’s length. Because I can’t go there. Not with him. It’ll only end poorly.

He says nothing for a moment, staring down at me while I do everything I can to avoid the heat of his pointed gaze. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers.

“You can’t say that.” I rise from my spot on the bench, forcing him to drop my hands. I need to breathe, need to think without his touch muddling my brain.

Friends don’t hold hands.

Friends don’t look at you like that—like they’re drowning and you’re the only one capable of carrying them to shore.

“Why not?” He stands alongside me, his expression a mask of frustration. “I should know.”

I whirl on him, an atomic bomb building inside of me ready to explode. I’m a living, breathing, exhibition in frustration and anger andwant.

Because as much as I don’t want to admit it, as hard as I’ve been trying to avoid it, IwantTeagan.

Which is fucking ridiculous.

I have zero right, not when I’ve only known him a few weeks, and certainly not when we’re at two different junctures in our lives.

“Are you really telling me that if you got an offer from the NFL, you wouldn’t take it? Are you really telling me that you plan on staying here after college when all your family and all your friends are elsewhere?”

“Lane, I’m not going to sit here and say I’ve never thought about what it would be like to get drafted. Hell, I’d be lying. Every single guy I know in my shoes has thought about it. You can’t commit yourself so fully to one thing for so many years and not think of the possibilities, but dreaming about what it would be like and the reality of it happening are two very different things. Have you even thought about asking me if I’d go? Have you ever thought that I might not want to?”

I snort. “Of course not. Why wouldn’t you want that? You’d be crazy to pass up an opportunity like that.”

Teagan stiffens, his jaw flexing. I catch a flash of disappointment before he glances away from me, out into the fading watercolors on the horizon. “I see. So, if I told you that I’d rather stay here, that all I’ve ever really wanted is a simple life, one where I earn an honest living teaching and coaching high school football, that would becrazy? A waste of an opportunity? Is that how you see it?”

Guilt grips my stomach while the rest of me free-falls, unable to stop the impact as he continues.

“Is it so wrong to just want a normal life with a family and friends? One where I’m not destroying my body day in and day out. One where I’m not always on the road for half of the year, away from the people I love? A life where I live for the people in it instead of my work?”

“I . . . no. It’s not . . .” I shake my head. How could I think what he’s saying is anything short of amazing. Hell, it’s the path my father took until he reached his ultimate dream of coaching at the collegiate level. “Isthat what you want?” I ask, my voice small.

“Yeah, Lane. It is. It’s what I want.”

I turn my head, gazing out at the darkening horizon, the sun so low in the sky now it’s merely a fireball dipping below the trees. “But that still doesn’t change the fact that at the end of four years, you’ll leave. You have nothing keeping you here.”

“I could haveyou, Lane.”

“Teagan.” I scoff, glancing down at my hands.

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