Page 12 of Resist Me

“Whoa. You went down hard.”

Dropping my shirt, I glanced briefly at Lincoln. He leaned casually against one of the sinks, studying me.

“It’s not bad.”

He came closer. “Let me see.”

“No.”

When I tried to move past him, he grabbed onto my arm. “Don’t be a dumbass. Pride is only going to get you hurt more.”

I yanked my arm free. “I have a game to win. Worry about your little sprained ankle.”

After I drank some more water and took a few minutes to breathe, I picked up my helmet. Just before I reached the door, coach stepped through. His eyes locked on me, traveled to my side, then came back to my face.

“Lincoln said you’re injured.”

“Lincoln is a pussy and doesn’t know how to mind his business,” I snapped.

“Can you play or not? Don’t lie to me.”

“I can play.”

“Alright. Let’s get out there.”

With a nod, I left the locker room. I passed Lincoln on the way and didn’t bother to conceal my disdain. He tried to take me out of the game. I knew that he didn’t give a shit about me, so it just pissed me off more.

“You’re just gonna make it worse,” he said, coming to walk at my side.

“Suck my dick, Linc.”

“You’re not my type.”

“Apparently, baby-faced guys at coffee shops aren’t either. Maybe you’re just too picky.”

“Nah. He bored me and was too timid.”

“And me?”

“What?”

I stopped and turned to face him. “You said I’m not your type.”

The corner of his mouth pulled up. “You want to know why you’re not my type?”

“Yeah. I think you’re lying to yourself. I’m everybody’s type.”

“That’s why. You’re arrogant and insecure. If someone who looks like you lacks self-confidence, you must be really fucking damaged, and I learned a long time ago that people aren’t worth fixing. People like you are leeches, always needing more until you leave the other person dry and barely clinging to life. That’s why you’re not my type, West.”

I’d rather he told me that I was ugly or something. I wasn’t, but damn.

“Sounds like you’ve paid a lot of attention to me,” I noted. “You have me all figured out.”

With a wink, I started walking again. He was so confident that he knew me. Some details may be true, but he’d only scratched the surface. I wasn’t some leech who sucked the life out of things. In fact, the opposite was true. Life had been draining me for a long damn time, stealing from me and trying to break me.

It’s your fault, Weston. Why didn’t you know what was going on?

Why the fuck didn’t he? But no, it was my fault. Always mine. And he got to sink into his own delusional world where he could try to justify what he’d turned into.

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