“Do you need me to drive you home? I’m worried you’re too tired—or possibly just too stubborn—to hold on to me, so instead of taking my motorcycle, we’ll take your car. Then I can hail a cab back to grab my bike. Or deal with it tomorrow.”
I sat up, tucking my knees to my chest. “I’m okay.”
He nodded. “Well, you know the drill. I’m not leaving until you do.”
I didn’t want him to leave. For the past few days I’d tried to get him out of my head—for the past week, really, if I went and got all technical about it. That moment in the locker room played on a loop, and depending on the minute, I alternated between annoyed and turned-on. Sometimes the two weren’t as distinct as I’d like them to be.
“I checked on the towels, by the way,” he said. “They’re dry and the folding can easily be put off till tomorrow. If anyone complains, just send ’em my way.”
My fingers twitched with the desire to take hold of his hand and give it a quick squeeze, so I curled them into my palm. “Thank you for that.” I meant it, but it came out so mechanical and unlike the way he and I used to talk.
Not that we’d known each other long enough for all that “used to” business. Still, I couldn’t help but add, “I was going to get them done on Saturday, but someone distracted me, so I had to do three loads today to make up for it.”
He brushed his fingers over the top of my sandaled foot, feather light, yet I felt it down to my bones. “Someone tall, dark, and devastatingly handsome?”
I shot him a look. “The tall and dark part is right, but I’d go with cockiness as the attribute that stands out most.”
He cracked a smile, and the walls I’d thrown up cracked along with it. “Cocky, huh?” he repeated and nodded. “One, if I didn’t think I’d win every fight, I’d get annihilated in the cage, which I’m sure you realize. Two, I’m just that good…”
I rolled my eyes. “Are you done, or is there a three?”
“Three,do you know how easily I could twist that into something dirty?”
“I have no doubt.”
His large callused hand wrapped around my ankle and he dragged his thumb over my shin. Electricity danced across my skin, perking up every one of my nerve-endings. “Are we friends-ish again?”
I licked my lips. “You still want to be friends-ish with me?”
“I’ll settle for that.” He started to withdraw his hand, and I caught it.
“It’s not that I don’t… There are things that…” I blew out my breath, but it didn’t miraculously untangle my mess of conflicting emotions. “I’ve just been burned really badly before, and while right now it almost seems like…” I shook my head. I had a boyfriend, so I shouldn’t even be thinking about our combustible chemistry and the persistent connection that whispered we could be great together, much less saying it.
Facts. I need to focus on cold, hard facts.“Once you get back out there on the fighting circuit, you’ll start climbing through the ranks, traveling all the time, and this thing between us will be rearview-mirror stuff. A time we can reflect on and smile, and say wow, I’m glad we were friends-ish during that crazy summer. If we crossed lines, that wouldn’t happen, so it’s better this way. For both of us.”
He looked like he wanted to argue, and I forced myself to stay firm.
“I have to live in the real world, Shane. So I’m just going to finish off my two-and-a-half month stint here and then go back to my real life.”
His eyebrows drew together, and I took advantage of the chance to repay him for the times he’d called me out.
“Now you’re doing the crinkle thing.” I smoothed it out with my thumb, and his breath skated across my wrist. I didn’t realize how intimate it’d feel, and it took me too many seconds to pull away.
“You’re leaving in two and a half months?”
“Just two now. Then I’ll move back to San Francisco.”
“To be with your boyfriend,” he grit out. “That explains why he’s never around.”
“To take the incredible internship I was super lucky to land at a gallery that displays the kind of art I love, and yes, my boyfriend lives there as well. We’re doing the long-distance thing while I’m here, and honestly, it sucks and it’s harder than I thought it would be”—which was something I shouldn’t have admitted out loud—“but he’s coming for a visit soon—not this weekend but the next—so if you really want to meet him…”
Talk about a disaster. I wanted to take it back without actually having to, so I plowed on through. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry things have been shitty between us, and I know I’m not dealing with everything as well as I should be. For what it’s worth, you’re pretty impossible to ignore, and I’ve been crabbier than usual, since all I do now is work with a side of more work.”
“Wow. That’s pretty crabby.”
I smacked his arm but couldn’t suppress my laughter, and I didn’t want to—I wanted to get back to the lighter stuff. I’d missed this. Missed him, even if it seemed silly to miss someone I’d barely known for two weeks, half of which we’d been more on the outs than the ins.
His green eyes met mine. “I’m not saying I don’t understand your points about our situation. I’ve thought some of them myself. I am committed to getting back on the fighting circuit and doing whatever it takes to climb through the ranks. Right now, more than anything, I need to keep my focus. Both fighting and flirting with you tend to distract me from what I should be concentrating on.”