Page 32 of The Bright Side of Brooding
Chapter Fifteen
Nick
I can’t look away—won’t. Unless you tell me I’m mistaken.
Ihad not fully appreciated Summer’s stubbornness. Frankly,stubborndidn’t do her justice.
“You realize if you were a man, people would call you pigheaded. You know that, right?” I said this in a frustrated mumble, pacing across my garage gym space.
“That’s incredibly rude.”
She spoke from the place she’d glued herself to when she came in. She’d slipped inside the door while Rob and Art were midworkout. At least she hadn’t insisted on getting directly in the way of one of the guys.
This was our last Saturday to do much of anything, and we’d been at it all day, mimicking the competition. We’d ease way off in the next few days, but most athletes didn’t take too many rest days the week of because it just didn’t help them mentally.
“If I’m being rude, I apologize—”
“If? It’s not a question. Calling someone pigheaded is definitively rude.”
I couldn’t look at her while she was this frustrated, because looking at her face did things to me. It made me weak and melty, like I’d been left in a hot car and then had to get out and walk, boneless and gummy. I needed sharpness, an edge, to talk some sense into the version of Summer who’d shown up minutes ago, seething.
“I’m not sure why we’re even arguing. Are you?” I asked, tapping Art’s quad, reminding him to increase range on that side of his squat.
“You’re not sure—” She threw her hands up and walked in a tight circle before blowing out a long breath. “Can you just come over here and talk to me? For just a minute? Then I’ll leave you to do your work and move on with my life.”
I wanted to smile but tucked it behind a frown instead. No way could I let her see she had me smiling and expect to go toe to toe with her. It’d be hard enough to be close to her. I hadn’t seen her since Monday morning, except at a distance. We’d both been running around crazy this week, me training and prepping for the trip, her doing whatever she did, and even seeing her for a minute without instantly kissing her with all the pent-up desire felt like a small form of torture.
But on the point we were arguing, I would not give. I left Art to his work—he was in the zone now anyway—and traversed the fifteen feet or so to where she stood. I stopped and crossed my arms, mimicking her stance.
Her eyes flickered over me from my head, to chest, arms, and slipped all the way down to my feet, then bounced back up and rolled. She accompanied this with a sound of mild disgust.
I raised a brow at her.
“You just—of course I come in here all mad and ragey and then you finally come close and it’s like—you’re like—”
“Yes, Summer? What am I like?”
Yes, I poked the bear. But the look she’d given me was pure fire, so I couldn’t resist. I wanted her to speak, to give me all of her words. I wanted everything from her, and I had no idea what she wanted from me. I wasn’t above collecting the scraps that fell from the table of this conversation.
She groaned, exasperated. “You’re driving me insane. Look. You’re not paying for the plane ticket to London. That was never part of the agreement.”
She held out her phone to display what looked like an e-mail—likely the plane ticket confirmation I’d gotten earlier today and forwarded.
“False. It was always part of the agreement. It would’ve been when Melanie was our medic, and it’s the same now that it’s you.”
Her lips pressed together, and she slowly moved her head side to side in an exaggerated shake. “Nope.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
I matched her vehemence, though I didn’t feel it the same way she clearly did. Her cheeks were flushed, and she looked genuinely bothered. I didn’t want to upset her, but this insistence on paying her own way when she was doingusa favor—nonsense.
“Nick! Why are you being like this?”
My name out of her mouth, even in that tone, slipped under my frustration and forced out a smile. When she saw it, she stilled.
