Page 159 of Puck Prince

He takes a single step towards me, and I shove the bathroom door open, hurl myself inside, and lock it behind me.

As soon as I lean back against the door, my knees give out as the flashbacks overtake me like a tidal wave I never saw coming.

45

CALLIE

I’m stretched onto my toes, trying to wedge books on the top shelf of my already overstuffed, microscopic office closet when a hand suddenly covers mine.

I yelp and spin around, but Spencer, ever calm and collected, doesn’t flinch as he finishes sliding the books into place for me.

“You scared me.” I laugh a little. The office the university gave me is small enough that two people can barely fit inside. He’s standing so close that our bodies brush with every breath.

It’s like this every time we’re together.

Every time we’re alone, anyway.

When the team is around, he doesn’t look at me or smile in that way that practically melts me into my shoes. We can’t go to any of the restaurants in town together. Even walking to our cars together at the end of practice is against his rules.

But my office in the far back corner of a long, dim hallway is always where he finds me. It felt illicit and exciting at first.

Now, I feel like a dirty little secret.

“You look good today,” he rumbles. His hand is braced on the edge of the shelf above my head, boxing me in.

“Thanks.” I swallow the nerves clogging my throat. “But you shouldn’t be here.”

He curls his hand, fingers brushing along my cheek. “Why not?”

“Because I told you?—”

“You told me you didn’t want to be a secret forever. And you won’t be.” He twirls a strand of my hair around his finger. “Not forever.”

I’m not sure if that’s supposed to be sweet or not, but this is not the Spencer I had dinner with all those weeks ago. He took me to a little Italian hole in the wall outside of town and asked me what it was like being a woman in a male-dominated field. He listened to me complain about men never taking me seriously, about his teammates hitting on me constantly, about everyone assuming I must sleep with all the men I work with.

He seemed to actually care.

Now, I don’t think he’s even hearing me.

“I don’t want to be a secret at all, Spence. You don’t want to tell the team about us, and that’s fine. But it means there is no ‘us.’ I’m sorry.”

I really am sorry.

At the end of our date, he walked me to my car, thanked me for a great evening, and asked if he could kiss me.

I drove home convinced I’d just had the last first date of my life.

Now, it’s over before it could even begin.

“How sorry?” His lips pull into a smile as he leans over me, shoving me back into the closet. A box jabs me in the spine, and I wince, but he keeps coming.

This is not the Spencer I thought I knew.

“I really should get back to–”

He burrows his face into my neck. “You smell good, too.”

“Spencer.” I push against his chest. “We shouldn’t. We can’t.”

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