Page 56 of The Late Hit
My mind is spiraling, but I don’t focus on that right now. Instead, I focus on watching that crazy tight end for the Chiefs do one of the victory dances he’s known for.
Tomorrow I’ll deal with Brynn. Hopefully, it’s not too late.
Hopefully that waitress didn’t fuck everything up. I’ve spent too much time getting Brynn to trust me.
I refuse to give up until she’s mine.
She’sofficiallyavoidingme.And you want to know what’s messed up? I expected this. This is why I have never acted on my feelings. I knew she’d run scared. I knew this, and yet, I still kissed her. All because of a stupid dare. It’s not in junior high anymore. I could’ve walked away. Walked away, took a shot of tequila, or, hell, even gave her a quick peck on the lips. Anything but a full-blown kiss the way I did. The way I spilled all my feelings out in that kiss. And if only it was the kiss. I’m pretty sure none of this would be an issue if we hadn’t fooled around at her parents’. That’s what freaked her out. I know it.
And what sucks is that I swear she felt the connection between us too. She melted into that kiss like my lips were the only thing keeping her standing. And she’s the one who showed up in my bedroom at her parents’. She’s the one who said we weren’t thinking, just doing what felt right. And her coming on my lips felt right. It felt fan-fucking-tastic.
“She’smine,” I growl.
“Only she’s not,” Grant chimes in.
Shit, I said that out loud.
“She’s not yours because you won’t tell her how you feel.”
“I want to give this a go, but she needs to be sure. Everything will change. Hell, it already has,” I said, taking another drink of my Corona.
The guys and I are at a Mexican restaurant for Taco Tuesday. We don’t normally do back-to-back nights out, but sometimes it happens. And don’t think I’m not turning down the alcohol. Tomorrow's practice is going to suck, but I don’t care at this point.
It’s a tradition that we started halfway through freshman year when we needed some more bonding. Brynn started coming with us sophomore year, along with some of the other guys’ girlfriends. She hasn’t missed a Taco Tuesday since she started coming. We reserve the back half of the restaurant and fill it up with hungry football players. There’s usually a handful of guys who have a competition of who can eat the most tacos. Typically, it’s the linemen who do
“What did she say?” Grant nudges my arm, getting my attention to continue the conversation.
“Nothing really. Asked me if she could spend the night in my bed. Then we took things to third base. Both of us fell asleep together.”
Grant’s head snaps my way, eyes getting big.
“Dude, she slept in your bed? With you?”
“Yep,” I answer, shoveling the last of my rice into my mouth. There’s nothing better than Mexican restaurant rice.
“Hmm,” Grant hums to himself. “She’s never done that.”
“No shit. That’s why I’m so damn confused about why she’s avoiding me. I mean, why now?”
“Maybe she’s worried it was just a weekend thing. Maybe she has feelings for you, but doesn’t want to say anything in case you don’t feel the same,” Grant finishes his thought just as Will slides across from the table.
“What’s got you lookin’ like a sad sack, Boyd?”
Clenching my jaw, I glare across the table, as I take a deep breath.
“Mind your own fucking business, Davis.”
“Speaking of fucking, where’s Brynn?”
He smirks. Actually smirks at me.
Pushing myself to my feet, my chair topples over, and Grant is right there in my face, holding me back. There’s nothing more I want than to punch that goddamn smirk off his arrogant face. The prick.
Hands on my chest, holding me in my spot, Grant speaks low enough for only me to hear. “Walk away, Q. We’re not doing this here.”
Pumping my shoulders up and down, I tip my head back and forth, giving it a couple of good cracks. Deciding I’m over this night, I reach into my pocket and toss out a wad of cash, which is more than enough to cover my bill.
“I’m out,” I say, turning for the door.
