Page 39 of Unforgivable

Coach nodded at me and gave me a once-over. “Well, I think you're on the right track. Your grades are solid, you're obviously putting in the work, and Kenji has mentioned you've been nothing but supportive of him taking over in the interim. I'm proud of you, kid.”

His praise should have lit me up and unfurled the knot in my stomach that had been there since the haunted house. Instead, guilt hung heavy in my gut and my throat tightened on a painful swallow. In truth, I hadn't given him much to be proud of and if he caught wind of my questionable tactics with Rhys, he'd skewer me on my own Lacrosse stick.

I couldn't force my words to work, so I simply nodded in response.

“I know you're still concerned about your scholarship,” Coach continued, and nerves spiked my adrenaline. “Nothing's guaranteed yet, but I think you'll be alright. Just keep your nose clean, your eye on the prize, and it should be just fine.”

My breath left me in a rush, relief flooding my system even as guilt settled deeper in my chest. I had let the anger and dread of possibly being forced out of school poison me and Rhys had suffered because of it. It was a foreign concept to me to want to make amends since I had spent a chunk of my life living with no regrets and doing what I wanted.

But I'd be lying if I said that Rhys ignoring my texts didn't bother me at all. I hated that it did. What was it about innocent Evans that had him buried so deep under my skin?

Where was my crippling anger and hatred for this guy? Did he suck it all out through my dick? I felt unsettled, not really sure what I wanted or what I felt anymore. The night of my aunt's call I had been so livid and unhinged, seeking something to ground me, and Rhys had come along like an answer to my desperate prayer. I hadn't intended to open up to him as much as I did, but once I let the words out I couldn't stop them.

And I had been captivated by what he had told me in turn. My intuition had told me there was something deeper connecting us, buthaving it confirmed cracked something inside me. We were bound by loss and anchored together in pain. When he had professed his ludicrous belief in finding this unconditional, enduring love, it had snapped the last thread holding me together that night, and as always I shut it all down and lashed out.

He had me feeling too much, so I chose to feel nothing at all. I hid behind my walls and responded with malice. It was much easier to focus on the ire I felt for him rather than what he had inadvertently ignited in me with a single conversation: hope.

Even if I was unable to identify what it was exactly that kept Rhys rooted in my head, I couldn't ignore the pull toward him.

He was still my target, but now I had a new goal in mind.

Students pouredout of the classroom as I clung to the wall just outside the door in an effort not to get trampled or miss the one person I needed to see. I barely had enough time to shower after my workout and book it to the coffee cart before Rhys' class let out, the same one I had snuck into weeks ago. Just as I thought I had somehow missed him, I saw his rumpled head of thick, wavy hair duck out in the last wave, hauling ass in the opposite direction. I fought against the crowd to catch up to him, sneaking up on his left.

“If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to avoid me, Sweetness,” I whispered teasingly into his ear.

Rhys whipped around startled and nearly sent the two coffees in my hand flying.

Okay. Another misstep. I recognize that now.Duly noted.

He just stared at me with his bright eyes, mouth hanging open like he had seen a ghost. Now that I was here, I had forgotten everything I had planned to say to get him to talk to me. After a handful of painfully uncomfortable seconds, I snapped out of it and cleared my throat.

“Uh, here. I brought you coffee. I didn't know how you took it, but figured cream and sugar were safe bets,” I said, handing him the cup. I wasn't entirely sure he'd take my peace offering, but felt oddly satisfied when he took it from me gingerly, giving me a small smile.

In the next second though, his smile fell clean off and he pivoted onhis heel away from me. With a sinking feeling in my gut, I watched him march over to the trash can and drop the coffee in with a plop. He then took off out the door without another glance at me.

Okay, first platoon has been mowed down. Gotta send in air support. Pray for the troops…

Tossing my own coffee in the bin since I was no longer in the mood, I raced out the door before he could get lost in the crowd. I spotted him just up ahead and ran after him. I grabbed his arm, yanking him over to a shady area where we hopefully wouldn't be interrupted.

“Get off me!” Rhys barked, failing to rip his arm from my grasp. I wasn't letting him run away this time. Even my patience had its limits.

“No. There's things I need to say to you,” I said firmly, locking on his furious gaze and willing him to see my resolve.

“What? You gonna make me drop to my knees again andserviceyou right here? Need more of an audience than we had last time?” he snarled. It felt like a knife to the gut. His words needled at something in my memory, and I quickly realized that he had to have heard me talking to Griffin and Kenji after I left him in that hallway. Fuck, this wasn't good.

“I never should have done that?—”

“Damn right, you shouldn't have! Oops, guess I owe you a dollar for your freaking swear jar,” Rhys spat out, digging out a crinkled dollar bill from his back pocket and throwing it in my face.

The gesture should have infuriated me, but it didn't. All I could feel was hopeless, thinking that I had pushed him one time too many, and that thought inexplicably had my stomach cramping and sadness seeping in.

“Rhys, please hear me out…” I begged as he tried again to pull away from me. Holding onto him seemed dire, as if I let him escape from me now, I'd never see him again.

Ugh, I'm feeling too many things. What in the hell is happening to me right now? Am I starting to…care??

“Oh I know! Pop quiz, Hawk!” Rhys chimed with fake enthusiasm. It felt so wrong to hear him call me that. I never thought I'd miss someone calling me Cal again. “If someone is not responding to your texts, what is the message they are trying to convey?”

“Rhys, I am so?—”

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