Page 89 of Shut Up and Score
The locker room is quieter than usual. Guys filter out fast, as if the tension between us is contagious. I strip fast, shower faster, and think about leaving without a word.
But when I step out, he’s there. Leaning against the wall acting completely casual, like he didn’t just train beside me for two hours.
“You followed me,” I say.
“I waited for you,” he corrects.
I glare.
“I just—I just need five minutes, Micah.”
I don’t move. My fingers tighten on my damp towel, still slung around my hips. “You got two.”
He looks up at me, and for once, there’s no smugness. Just the guy I fell for in the first place.
“I never wanted to hurt you. I know I did, and I know sorry doesn’t fix it… But I never forgot that kiss two years ago. Not once. Not for a second.”
I exhale harshly. “Youruinedme, Colton. You let them think I?—”
“I know.” His voice breaks. “I was scared. I was so fucking scared. And so stupid, Micah.”
“You weren’t the one who lost everything.”
He steps forward. Close enough that his body spray and sweat invades my nose, tickling at memories I shove back down. He shouldn’t smell so fucking good. That familiar scent—woodsy, clean, something expensive and sharp—wraps around me still tugging at the uninvited memories.
It hits me low. Hard. Because Iknowthat smell. Used to fall asleep with it in my sheets. Used to lean into it during all those late nights we pretended to just be friends.
My chest tightens. And my body reacts before I can stop it—tensing, heart skipping two beats, as though it’s been sucker punched. My groin stirs. I look away fast, jaw clenched.
I don’t want this. I don’twanthim.
But his scent lingers anyway. Sticking to the inside of my lungs like something I’ll never fully scrape off.
“I know that too,” he whispers, his eyes pleading with me for understanding.
My chest heaves.
There’s a beat. A second too long. Too charged.
And then I shove past him.
Again.
“Micah—”
“I can’t keep doing this,” I say, my voice fraying at the edges. “I can’t keep letting you in just so you can destroy me.”
I don’t wait for a response. I turn, towel clinging low to my hips, and make for the hallway that leads to the locker room exit. The hallway that ends in silence, in walls I can punch, in places he doesn’t get to follow.
But I hear him behind me anyway. Footsteps. Harsh breath.
“Micah, wait—please.”
I spin fast. “For what, Colton? So you can tell meagainthat you didn’t mean to ruin my fucking life? That you were scared? You think that’s news?”
“No,” he says, voice hoarse. “I think it’s true. I think I was a fucking coward, and I’ve regretted it every goddamn day since.”
I laugh bitterly. “Congratulations. At least you got toregretit. I had to survive it.”
