Page 41 of Sacrifice Bunt

“It just got louder,” she said. “Where are you?”

“I just got to my hotel.” He skipped the elevator and took the stairs two at a time toward the tenth floor.

“Now it sounds echoey. Wait, are you taking the stairs?” She sounded appalled.

“I am.” He turned corner after corner until he came to his floor.

“You’re not even out of breath, are you? Ugh, this is why athletes are the worst. You just go around doing wild things like climbing ten flights of stairs for no reason when there is a perfectly good working elevator that can easily take you where you need to go.”

He pushed open the door to his floor as he laughed. Then part of what she’d said penetrated his brain. “How did you know I was on the tenth floor?”

There was a beat of silence, then a whispered, “Shit.”

He couldn't help but smile ear to ear. “Did you ask someone for my room number?” That happiness that was pulsing through him at the thought of her keeping tabs on him was so foreign.

Had anything ever made him feel that way?

“Listen, don’t let this go to your head or, you know, or take it the wrong way, but yes, I asked Hannah what room you were in.”

Oh, it had already gone to his head, among other places. His fucking dick was hard as a rock, knowing she’d inquired about him. Finally, inside his room, he dropped his bag and sat down on the bed. “Why?” It was the only thing he wanted to know.

Why did she ask for his room number?

“Fuck if I know. One minute I was talking about contracts, and the next, I asked what room you were in.” She didn’t sound happy. In fact, she sounded annoyed. “I don’t do complicated, and you complicate things?”

“Me. How am I the bad guy here?” Now he sounded annoyed.

“Because you made me fucking like you, that’s why!” Her shouted words were filled with anger. “You had to be charming and charismatic and fucking amazing at sex. Why couldn’t you suck at sex?”

He tried not to laugh but failed. “I’ll try harder to suck next time .”

“No, there isn’t going to be a next time. I don’t want this.”

He left her comment hanging while he gathered his thoughts, the silence practically deafening. “You can keep telling yourself that, but your actions prove otherwise.”

“Not anymore. Friends, we are friends, and barely that if you think about it. We don’t even like each other.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it. If you only wanted to be friends, you would have hung up by now. You wouldn’t still be on the phone.” He knew he was goading her, but deep down, something told him it was the right thing to do. Bickering, fighting, and going at each other was what they did. He liked it, and he knew she did too.

“You want me to hang up on you?” She was even angrier than before. “Because I will.”

“Go ahead, do it.” He was not backing down any more than she was.

“I will. I’ll hang up on you and never talk to you again.”

For a second, he wondered if he’d pushed her too far, but then he realized she still hadn’t hung up. She was still on the phone, saying she was going to hang up.

He’d called her bluff, and now he had her. “I’m waiting.”

She huffed out a breath, groaning. “I hate this. I hate how I feel. I hate how I don't feel. I hate not being in front of you. I hate not being able to touch you. I hate that I like you. I hate every single thing about this.”

That was a lot of hate. “Tell me how you really feel.” He laughed, even though it wasn't funny.

“I can't, Noah. I cannot do this. It's not in me to do this. I don't want to do long distance. I never wanted a relationship. It just can't be more than friends.”

She sounded sad and sorrowful. He was starting to wonder if maybe he pushed her too much. Maybe she really couldn't do this.

“If that's how you really feel, then I guess I just have to live with it.” Saying those words was torture.

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