Page 103 of End Game

I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing too.

“If that’s what she wants, then more power to her.”

His gaze locks with mine, dark and oh-so serious. “And what do you want, Ever?”

“In regards to what?” I ask shakily, ignoring the nerves suddenly rattling around in my stomach, making it twist.

“Me. And you. Did I fuck it all up? Have I blown all of my chances?” His brows lift in question.

The words get stuck in my throat, and I swallow down the lump that formed there. “No. You haven’t blown all your chances.”

He smiles.

“Yet,” I tack on.

The smile fades, and then he’s shaking his head. “You know just how to bust my balls.”

“Someone has to.”

“My mom would like you.” I go still at his casual comment. Men with flirtatiousI’m a player–type reputations like Nico’s don’t usually want the women in their life to meet. “I talked to her today. She was the one who put my head on straight.”

“How?”

He sits up, the muscles in his stomach rippling. God, he is a beautiful male specimen. “She has a theory she learned from my grandpa. Want to hear it?”

“I would love to.”

“Come here and sit by me, and I’ll tell you.” He pats the mattress, his gaze shooting to mine. “I won’t try anything. I swear.”

I push away from the door and sit next to Nico on the foot of the bed, keeping a respectable but not-too-far distance from him. “Tell me.”

“It goes like this—if you’re having a bad day, if you think everyone in your life is a jerk. Treating you like crap. If you keep thinking that over and over, with every encounter you’re having, sometimes you need to take a step back and wonder—am I the asshole?”

“Okay.” I nod, absorbing his words, a little laugh escaping me. “I think I get it.”

Nico reaches out to take my hand in his. “I’m the asshole. I was an asshole over the weekend, and I was a giant one today at practice. I’m sorry, Ever.”

He squeezes my hand, and I feel that touch all the way to my soul.

“Thank you for apologizing. I can’t lie—youwerea total asshole at practice today.” He ducks his head, a faint smile on his face. “But you weren’t an asshole on Sunday. Or Saturday either.”

“Yeah?” His smile is faint. “So you don’t regret what happened between us?”

“No. I wanted it.” He turns to fully look at me, my hand still in his. “I wanted you.”

“And then I came on too strong Sunday.”

“You were coming onreallystrong. And while it was flattering, it was also shocking. That kind of—scared me.”

“That’s why I lashed out at practice.” He interlaces his fingers with mine. “I’m not used to rejection.”

“Aw, poor Nico.” I’m teasing him. “A girl rejected him.”

“You did. You ran straight out of my room.” He settles our linked hands in his lap, and I can feel the heat of his body through the thick cotton of his sweats. “I’ve missed you.”

I melt at the sincerity in his voice.

“It’s been barely twenty-four hours,” I remind him.

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