The last thing I need to do is be shirtless around the guy. He’ll probably take it as some sort of invitation.
Without a glance his way, I head over to grab the rest of my shit, ready to make a break for it.
Please, just go back to ignoring me and all will be right in the world again.
“Whatever?” he laughs, following me. “That’s all you have to say?”
I glance at him before looking at the door, begging to escape and get home. Pursing my lips and pretending to think about it because uh, yeah that’s all I’ve got for him right now, I nod. “Pretty much. Hence me walking away, Lenny. You know, ‘cause that usually signifies the end of conversation?”
To further prove my point, I start walking to the door. And of course, because the universe has some sort of plot to make me eternally miserable, River is right on my heels. Even as I exit the gym and start walking down the deserted hallway, I hear him behind me.
“What the hell is the issue here with us?” he hisses, grabbing my arm and tugging. It forces me to spin to face him and see the fury in his eyes, one I’ve never seen on him before. “Because the way I see it, my sexuality has nothing to do with my ability to perform on the field. And that’s the only thing I can think of at this point for why you’ve decided to continuously ice me out for no goddamn reason.”
I scoff and roll my eyes, waving my hand at him. “Did you not listen the other day? You’re clearly the issue. Not your sexuality, just you in general. So do me a favor by getting out of my face.”
River laughs in annoyance. “Because having a simple conversation with you, telling you that you looked good running a drill is getting in your face?”
“It is when you use the phrase as a fucking come-on,” I snap, closing in on him in barely contained rage.
“You really need a damn reality check if you think everything I say has some sort of hidden meaning behind it, a hint I’m trying to get in your pants.”
A sneer works its way over my face as I glare at him in disdain because fuck him. I know the game he’s playing, I see right through it. He’s the kind of guy that’ll take any challenge head on and fight tooth and nail to overcome it, beat it, whatever it might be.
And that is all he sees me as. A challenge. A game to play and win.
Yeah, not fucking happening.
“Go fuck yourself, Lennox.”
He smirks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why don’t you do it yourself, Grady?”
My jaw practically pops out of its socket in an attempt to keep my damn mouth shut, to keep my cool and not let him get to me, no matter how much it goes against my nature.
“Feisigh do thoin fein,” I growl under my breath in Gaelic. Because yeah, I’m a mature twenty-one year old guy who just told him to fuck his own ass in a language there isn’t a chance in hell he speaks.
I turn again to head down the hall, but his hand snaps out and latches onto my wrist.
“Oh, no you don’t, dickhead. You want to toss out insults? Do it in a language I fucking understand. That way I at least know why I have to fight my instinct to deck you in the face.”
My eyes are glued to his hand on my arm, where his skin touches mine.
It’s only the second time we’ve touched skin to skin for more than a brief moment and just like the first, there is liquid ice melting my flesh where the connection is. White hot and molten.
And it enrages me that he somehow manages to make me feel…whatever the fuck this is. I don’t think I could put a label on it if I tried.
“Get your… Fucking… Hand… Off me.”
“Or what?” he challenges, stepping into my space, his jaw hardened. “You gonna call me a faggot again? A queer? A fucking twink? Well, say it all, baby. Give me everything you’ve got. Because there is nothing you can say to me I haven’t heard a hundred times over.” His smile is menacing, filled with venom that doesn’t fit the shiny persona he wears each and every day.
Because that’s what it is. A fucking mask.
He’s nowhere near the perfect golden boy he makes himself out to be. Because this shithead, he’s got a mean streak. A part of himself clearly craving hostility and malice. He might contain it for the rest of the world, but right now, I see right through it.
“Stay out of my goddamn way like I said, and we won’t have to find out,” I bite, yanking my wrist from his hold. I try not to notice the cool feeling washing over my skin where his hand used to be, already missing the contact.
No. Not fucking missing. What the hell is wrong with you?
I start walking down the hall again, away from him, and thank God I don’t hear his footfalls behind me. But his voice, low and deep, cuts through the stagnant air even at this distance.
“How the fuck do you suppose I do that, huh Ciaráin? We’re fucking teammates. We see each other every damn day. There is no possible way for me to stay away from you because whether we like it or not, we’re stuck together for the next few months until the season ends.”
Believe me, I’m counting down the days.
“You don’t think I know that?” I grind, spinning to face him. “I think I know better than anyone. Just keep to yourself except when we have to interact, and we won’t have an issue.”
“Because that’s working out so well for us now,” he mumbles, shaking his head before running his hand through his hair. “I never asked to be your fucking enemy. I don’t have to be. You made it this way.”
He’s not wrong. This is a majority of my own doing and I know it.
It’s me not being able to own my own shit, deal with my own past. It’s not on him and I fucking know it.
But for the life of me, I can’t seem to let it go.
“Well maybe if you weren’t intent on pulling shit like you did today, blatantly eye-fucking me in front of our teammates. Jesus Christ, I told you Elliott insinuated we were fucking around because you show me preference on the field, yet you did it anyway. But it’s not that. You and I both know our chemistry on the field is because of this freaky fucking telepathic shit we’ve got going on and nothing else.” I lick my lips and glance away, letting out a clipped exhale, wishing I kept the last bit out.
I watch his brow furrow. “You feel it too, don’t you?”
Fuck.
Grimacing, I bark out my reply. “Doesn’t matter. Just let me be. You play your game, I’ll play mine. End of.”
“It’s not the end of anything, Rain. This, whatever the fuck is happening here, is only just beginning. And we both know it.”
Unfortunately, you’re all too right about that one. “I thought I told you already, don’t fucking call me that.”
He shrugs his shoulders in mock innocence. “Oops. I must’ve forgotten,” he says, like he could possibly get away with bullshitting a bullshitter.
I watch him, my contempt lighting up within me. “You don’t want to get on my bad side, Lenny.”
The warning, because that’s what it is, comes out low and lethal, like a gun aimed and ready to fire if he takes a single misstep.
And I won’t fucking hesitate to take him down if he does.
He bites his lip and smirks, those dimples popping out to taunt me. “And what if I told you I’m only interested in getting in your backside?”