Page 70 of Let You Love Me

“I’m suggesting that you open that stubborn little head of yours”—she taps the side of my head—“to the possibilities, that’s all. And at the end of the day, if you just want to be friends, ifthat’s what’s comfortable for you, then fine. Be friends. But since when do friends hide in a creepy-ass basement and avoid each other?”

I suck in a breath, knowing she’s right.

“Just . . . give it some thought.”

Chapter 17

TEAGAN

Ikick the doorto my dorm room open then slam it shut behind me, glad Tommy decided to catch dinner with his girlfriend after practice. The stale scent of pizza fills the air and makes my stomach rumble, so I drop my bag on the floor beside the door and make my way toward the kitchenette.

The soles of my sneakers squeak over the linoleum, announcing my arrival, and when I swing the fridge door open, the light from inside glows in the din of the room, reminding me I hadn’t bothered to turn on the light.

That’s okay. The darkness matches my sour mood.

Grabbing a protein drink, I give it a quick shake, then crack the lid open at the same time my phone rings.

With a groan, I dig it out of the pocket of my athletic shorts, not really in the mood for conversation, unless it’s from the one person I want to hear from.

Brynn’s name flashes over the screen, and after a moment’s hesitation, I answer. “What’s up?” I say, my tone gruff.

I should be at the top of the world, vibrating with excitement.

We beat Alabama over the weekend by a field goal, pulling our rank. We’re now thirteenth in the fucking country. Yet I can’t seem to give a fuck because Lane’s ghosting me.

“Whoa. Everything okay? You sound like shit.”

“Feel like it, too,” I grumble.

It’s only been five days since I’ve talked to Lane, I remind myself. Five fucking days. I need to chill the fuck out, but I can’t seem to figure out how.

“What’s going on?” Brynn asks, her tone soft.

I exhale and tip my gaze to the ceiling. “I think I pushed too hard and scared Lane off,” I blurt.

“Ah.”

“What do you mean,ahhh?” I ask, annoyed.

“Nothing. It’s just I should’ve figured this was about her. So, I think it’s safe to say the ol’ friends plan isn’t working?”

I grimace. “I mean, it was. Kind of. Until I pushed my way into her house and proceeded to gush over her, and then send her texts twice a day, every day since Friday night reminding her how fucking amazing she is.”

Brynn whistles.

“Yeah.” I take a drink of my shake, wishing it were something stronger.

“You are hook, line, and sinker for her, aren’t you? This is worse than I thought.”

I swallow, then screw the cap back on my drink and set it on the counter when my stomach rumbles in protest.

I thought I left Lane’s place on a positive note. I thought things went well, but now I have no idea what to fucking think. I haven’t seen her since that night, and when I showed up at Wyndham Hall on both Monday and Tuesday to help her with the uniforms, she wasn’t there. All I found was the rack of cleaned gear, which meant she’d deliberately moved her shift toavoid me. And when I inquired about it via text because I was too chicken shit to try and call her, she just gave me some vague response about having some appointments this week.

I drag a hand down my face. “I don’t know what to do. Obviously, I came on too strong and spooked her. What do you suggest?”

To say I feel like an asshole is an understatement. It’s only been a couple weeks since I met her in the park that day, and I knew she had walls up. I should’ve eased into friendship, but something about Lane makes taking things slow seem like a Herculean effort.

“Maybe there’s nothing to do, T.”

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