Page 28 of Hot Route
He turns and walks out of the room like everything is fine while I stare into my mug like it has all the answers to how the fuck I’m supposed to be near him without wanting more.
TWENTY-THREE
MADS
The back yardis full of football players as I move around the kitchen, pretending to busy myself in an attempt to keep some distance between Blaze and I. After last night, then him acting like everything was normal this morning, I need some time to sort things out. The more I think about it, the more confused I get about what I even want anymore. Whether I want them to or not, I can feel my priorities starting to shift.
When I went outside to check the fuel level of the outdoor heaters fifteen minutes ago, Blaze was standing at the grill with Dalton, preparing the main course. This is the last cookout of the year for the group of offensive players he likes to host once a month. Even though the colder weather has made its way to New England, we’re making it work.
The timer on the stove goes off and I drain the tri-colored pasta, transferring it to a bowl before I start adding the ingredients for my mom’s famous pasta salad. My arms burn from the weight of the food as I mix it together, but when you’re feeding twenty professional football players, you have to make enough for an army.
Just as I throw the final touches on the pasta salad, I hear the sliding door open and close behind me, followed by approaching footsteps.
“Need any help?” Blaze asks.
Avoiding eye contact because, well, I don’t know why, I nod. “The baked beans can come out of the oven.”
He goes over and removes the bubbling dish, setting it down on the stovetop before tossing the foil into the trash. “What next?”
That’s a great fucking question.
“Umm,” I say, awkwardly. “That’s—I think that’s it. Thanks.”
He leans on the counter next to me, folding his arms over his chest. “If you want to talk about last night, we can. But if you want me to apologize for it, I won’t. I can’t.”
I chance a glance in his direction, finding myself unable to look away once our eyes meet. His expression is completely unbothered. I stay quiet, but he continues.
“It can be whatever you want it to be. If you want to stayfriends,” he says the word like he doesn’t believe for one second that’s what I truly want, “we can. If you want to be more, that’s okay, too. But don’t shut down on me.” He pauses, waiting to see if I’m ready to speak, but I don’t say anything.
He huffs an annoyed breath. “You know what? We don’t have to make a big deal out of it,” he goes on. “You sounded like you needed help, so I helped.” He shrugs. “If that’s what you need to hear to stop yourself from overthinking, fine. I’ll give you that. But I won’t act like it meant nothing to me.”
He doesn’t give me a chance to reply before he grabs both dishes and leaves the house. I exhale, leaning forward onto the counter. My whole body shakes as I try to make sense of the last words he said, and the ones that still sit unsaid on the tip of my tongue.
BLAZE
I sit on the edge of my bed, going through the events of the last twenty-four hours. After last night, towering over Mads as she came for me, I thought the safest move would be to pretend everything was fine. But now I realize that was probably not the best way to handle things.
All through the cookout, I could tell she was battling with herself. And part of that is my fault. One minute, I tell her I am on board with just being friends. Next thing I know, I’m doing everything I can to make her see how I feel about her. The real truth is that I’m fucking falling for her. Maybe I already have. But me ping-ponging back and forth isn’t fair to her.
She was clear with me. She told me her internship and securing the job at Tailgate is her number one priority. I respect the fuck out of her for that. If anyone knows what it’s like to give everything you have to succeed at the highest level, it’s me. So, why does it sting so badly when she’s afraid to risk it by taking a chance on us?
What I told Mads earlier, about not needing to make a big deal out of what we shared last night; felt like vinegar in my mouth as I said it. But I knew it was the right thing to do. If she is warring with herself over this, the least I can do is give her an out.
I need to leave the ball in her court from here on out. At least for now, I’ll let her figure things out on her own, without the pressure of me trying to turn us into something more. It mightmake me crazy watching her explore dating with other guys if she decides to do that, but I’ll wait. I’d wait a lifetime for her.
I just hope that when she’s ready to share her future with someone else, she lets me back in. In the meantime, all I can do is focus on keeping a tight grip on my emotionsandmy restraint.
TWENTY-FOUR
MADS
My phone vibratesfrom somewhere in my room. I’ve finally decided to unpack the rest of my suitcases and make this space my own. It’s mostly just the winter clothes I haven’t needed yet, but I figured I might as well get them ready to be worn soon. In the process, I’ve made a huge mess.
It’s been nearly two weeks since that night in my room. Thankfully, all the awkwardness between us has subsided. We’re back to hanging out as much as we can, doing ‘friend stuff’ like watching movies and playing video games. He’s still his same flirty self, but he’s definitely backed away from the subtle touching I used to love. I miss it, but this is what I wanted, right?
Is it, though?
I rush around the bed, turning my head slightly as if that will help me locate the buzzing sound faster. My efforts pay off when I put my hand down on a particularly thick clump of sheets and feel a vibration. Grabbing a chunk of fabric, I whip it, sending my phone flying through the air.
