Page 59 of Delay of Game
His lips tipped into a playful grin that didn’t cross his face often enough. “Don’t lie.”
“Alright, I’m a little sore,” I admitted. “I’ll live. Probably.”
“You could have woken me up.”
I shrugged, wincing at the pull in my neck. “Yeah. I could have. I didn’t want to.”
He pursed his lips, turning off the faucet and pouring the water into the coffeemaker. He exhaled and turned around. “I like you, Astrid.”
The confession took me off guard. My chest tightened, and my stomach fluttered, wondering if I’d miscalculated. Maybe I didn’t need to wait.
“I like you, too.”
“But we can’t date. In fact, I shouldn’t have come here last night.”
The butterflies disappeared with that gut punch. I sucked in a breath, nearly dropping the spatula. “Oh?”
“I’m just… You’re… I’ve got Mila…” He stuttered over a list of excuses as I steadied my breathing.
I tamped down the disappointment of my gut reaction being the right one, more concerned with calming Rob down. I pulled the eggs off the pan and arranged them onto the two plates. “It’s fine.”
“I don’t really know how to explain?—”
I stopped him with a wry smile. “You don’t have to explain.”
And he didn’t. Or at least, I didn’t need to hear the explanation. I could see the panic in his eyes.
“I sort of feel like I do, though.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as his eyes cut out the window. “It’s not you.”
I almost laughed at the lame platitude. It’s not you, it’s me. Clearly, it had been a while since Rob dated since no one pulled out that relic anymore.
“Rob, relax.” Strangely, his panic calmed me and reasserted what I already knew: Rob needed time. “Let’s eat breakfast. If you want to pretend the last two days didn’t happen, I can live with that.”
He closed his eyes, face contorting. “Are you sure? Maybe, if I could explain myself a little better.”
I shook my head. “No need. It’s really not a big deal.”
He winced. “I wouldn’t say it like that.”
The optimism flooded back. “I wouldn’t either.”
“We’re still friends, right?” His normally confident tone faltered.
“Absolutely. So, what are you up to today?”
Rob wavered at the coffeemaker, his expression unsure. “I’m gonna run to the hardware store this morning and grab some drywall mud to patch up the missing drywall in the pantry.”
“Great.” I set the plates on the table and sat down. “Want to show me how it’s done so I can get the holes in the bathroom upstairs?”
He poured the coffee into two mugs, adding sugar and creamer to mine. “That’d be great.”
TWENTY-TWO
ROB
I postedup opposite the wall of linemen, uncomfortable with the football under my fingertips and the third-string quarterback calling the play behind me. I was used to being on the opposite side of the ball. The one with coaches and staff watching my every move. But that was before Coach Simmons shook up practice.
But, I’d been relegated to a “practice team” position on the offense, while Fieste, of all the fucking people, took my spot.
