Page 31 of Game On
He raises both hands in surrender. “Hey, fair enough.” He clears his throat, an unspoken apology in his eyes. “Didn’t mean to pry.”
As we near the concession stand, our conversation pauses, and I take a moment to steady my rapidly beating heart. Hudson steps up to place our order while I hang back, sensing a subtle shift in the atmosphere between us.
I don’t know what it is about this man that keeps me so on edge. How he can say a few measly words and take me from complacent to high-strung without so much as a warning.
He returns with the drinks, handing me an ICEE with a sheepish smile. “Peace offering?”
I take the drink, meeting his gaze. There’s a genuine warmth there, something that eases the tightness in my chest. “Okay,” I say, swallowing my pride. “Peace accepted.”
CHAPTER TEN
Hudson
Ella Davies is driving me up the goddamn wall. It’s not often I meet someone who can throw me off balance, and Ella does exactly that, effortlessly.
Maybe that’s why I can’t help but push her buttons. It’s nice to know I can elicit such a reaction from her, and that she’s not afraid to stick up for herself. It’s a quality that challenges me, attracts me, makes me want to spend more time figuring out exactly what makes her tick. That’s the most frustrating part of it all.
But it’s just physical, right? Must be, considering the dry spell I’ve been on lately. It’s nothing more than pent-up frustration. Fraternization rule or not, I could probably get her out of my system if things were different.
It must just be the fact that Ican’t, that I’m not allowed to. That we’re stuck in this limbo where nothing can happen, and, like Levi suggested, it’s making me obsess over being denied.
We make our way back to our makeshift spot on the grass, drinks in hand. I’m wrestling with what to say next withoutcrossing another invisible line. It’s disconcerting, this push and pull between us.
Ella settles down first, carefully avoiding the wet patches of dew on the ground, and I follow, ensuring there’s just enough space between us to keep things decidedly neutral. Yet, as we sink back into the quiet of the movie’s second half, that space feels more charged than empty.
I try to search for the right words to smooth over any rough edges. “You know,” I say, “I don’t like to talk about my exes much either.”
The words slip out before I can reel them back in. It’s supposed to be light, a bit of a joke, but as soon as I say it, I realize it’s none of those things. It’s presumptuous, maybe even a little dismissive, as if I think five years with someone is the same as a few quick flings.
She gives me a sideways glance. “Yeah? You have a lot of those, do you?”
“Only one actual ex I can recall in the last four years. Though, judging by the rumors, you’d think I’ve had a thousand.”
She huffs a laugh. “Not so sure anyone’s keeping count, Fox.”
“Counting or not,” I say, “people like to talk. And I’ve learned that no matter what you do, they always will.”
She’s quiet for a moment, her eyes on the dwindling light above us. “Rumors,” she murmurs, “they can be brutal, can’t they?”
I nod, leaning back on my hands as the movie drones on in front of us. After a long pause, I glance back at the truckbed where our friends have drifted off to sleep. “Look—” I nod toward them, trying to find neutral ground. “They’re out cold.”
Ella turns, her expression softening just a touch as she sees our friends bundled up together. She lets out a low, almost inaudible chuckle.
“Should we wake them?” I ask quietly in an attempt to bridge the gap I’ve so clumsily widened.
She shakes her head, a ghost of a smile on her lips. “No, let them sleep. We’ve all been stretched thin with training. They need the rest.”
“Agreed,” I murmur, relieved to see her thaw a bit. “Let’s just enjoy the peace while it lasts.”
So, we do, sitting side by side in silence as the last half hour of the film plays out. Once the credits roll, we wake the others with soft calls and slight shakes. They stir, blinking against the glare of the outdoor lights as their bodies unfold from their cramped positions in the truck bed.
Our drive home is quiet, the only sounds the low hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of movement from the back where Gabi and Sammy have all but collapsed into sleep again. I keep the truck’s windows down, letting the night air circulate so that I stay alert.
Every so often, I steal a glance at Ella, her profile silhouetted by the passing streetlights. She’s awake, staring out the window past Levi, lost in thought.
We drop Sammy off first, and to no one’s surprise, Levi decides to stay over, a soft mumble of “See you guys later” trailing after him as they head toward her front door together.He insists they aren’t dating, they aren’t hooking up, and they certainly don’t have anything to hide. I think it’s all an unnecessary gamble, but Levi’s never been one to listen to reason.
Then it’s on to Ella and Gabi’s place. I pull up to the familiar brick building, the truck idling as I hop out to help them from the cab. Gabi lingers by the curb, stretching her limbs with a wide yawn. She throws a teasing look over her shoulder at us. “I’m getting the impression you two need some privacy.”
