Page 11 of Power Move
Eyes twinkling, his gaze journeys over me from head to toe. “Still feeling fine from the dinosaur attack?”
“I think I’ll live.” As stealthy as possible, I wipe my palms on my pants, then gesture to the practical room. The reality of having him here is evident in every pounding beat of my heart. “Make yourself comfortable.”
Hands tucked into his pockets, he strolls to the middle of the room, then pauses by the beds. “Who’s is whose?”
I grab bottles of water from the snack stash and pass one over. “Mine is the one without the minefield of clothes. You can sit there if you want. I am.”
He steps out of his sneakers, setting the water on the side table before he sinks into the same mattress I’ll be sleeping on tonight.
My pulse trips with every step toward the bed, awareness amplifying everything from the feel of the carpet beneath my socks to the brush of clothes against my body, the softness of the mattress as I sit, and the weight of his gaze.
“So,” he says. His teeth drag over his lower lip, and he focuses on my mouth like he wants to drag them over me. There’s an electricity crackling the air.
“So,” I echo, heat curling through me. The space between us is small, easy to bridge.
He stretches his legs in front of him, his shin bumping my foot. “You were right when you said your team was a fun group. They are. I’ve had a good time with everyone this week.”
We’ve spent a lot of hours together during practices and a couple of meals with the entire team. Now that tonight’s game is over, we’ll only be teammates for one more day. After tomorrow’s game, that’s it. He’ll return to the Metros. The thought of not seeing him leaves me hollow. “Having you around has been great. Everyone will miss you.”
He presses his shoulder to mine, tipping his head until his lips are so close the heat of his breath brushes my skin, summoning a cascade of goosebumps. “Will you? Miss me.”
“Yeah.” The admission is a whisper as soft as the blanket beneath my fingertips. My heart beats faster. The word’s out now, there’s no calling it back.
He twists toward me, half-sitting and half-lying on his side, his expression earnest. “There’s a connection here, you and me. I don’t want to lose it.”
The happy feeling fluttering through me collides with the worry he’ll drop me once he experiences the annoyance of my anxiety. Folding my legs under me, I face him, steeling myself, because Ihatetalking about this, but think I have to. “I want to keep seeing you, too.”
“Good.” He lays his hand on my forearm. It’s so warm, and the touch of skin on skin singes my nerve endings.
“But if we’re spending more time together, you’ll learn that I worry. A lot.” Looking into his eyes is too hard. I focus on his fingers resting on my skin and the light freckles on the back of his hand. “I have anxiety. Some people find it too annoying and frustrating to deal with.”
With the lightest of touches, his fingertips stroke up and down my forearm, soothing the disquiet in my brain that he’s going to get up and book it the hell out of here. “You’re afraid I’ll be one of those people.”
That was a statement, not a question, but I nod anyway. “My ex was. My parents are. Some former friends were too.” I shrug, but pretending the hurt is gone doesn’t take it away. “I’ve tried meds and therapy. Breathing techniques. Playing guitar helps a lot. So does listening to music.”
“People who care about you should help you through it, not abandon you or push you away.”
“My friends—Remy, Morgan, Phil, Gio, Soren—help me. They’re great.” With every brush of his fingers, my stomach unclenches a little more. “Being this way isn’t fun. I do the best I can, but it’s still a lot to handle.”
In his soft smile, there is understanding, acceptance… hope. “Not to me.”
“You say that now.” I chew on my bottom lip and push down the flutter in my gut. As much as I want to believe Rhys means what he says, I’ve been down this road before, and I’ve learned it’s better to keep expectations low. “You have yet to witness me spiraling about things you would find minor.”
“Try me.” A fierce warrior’s glint in his eyes, he wraps his fingers around mine, strong and secure. “I’m serious. Try me. I’ll prove it to you.”
A lump forms in my throat. The threatening tingle of tears pricks the backs of my eyes, surprising the hell out of me. I want to believe him. “Okay. We’ll try.”
He brings my fingers to his lips and presses a kiss to my knuckles. “Thank you for telling me about all that. I want us to be open with each other.”
“I do too.”
The grip of his fingers loosens as he lowers our hands to his lap. “Since you shared, I will too… My first year on the Metros, I was a mess. Depressed, angry, and hurt over everything that happened in Vancouver. I lived with Jonas for months because I couldn’t handle finding a place on top of everything else.”
I tighten my grip on him, wanting to give him the same support he gave me. “What happened with Vancouver? It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”
“The short answer is, my teammate was sleeping with my boyfriend.”
“Seriously?” Shock shifts my voice louder. That betrayal is overwhelming.
