Page 40 of Ice Cold, Red Hot
She shrugged as she put the kettle on. “We’re taking a little break.”
I stared at her, trying to see if there was pain beneath those words. “You okay?”
Nat dropped tea bags into two mugs and looked up at me. “It was just for fun, CeeCee. I’m good.”
What would that be like? To be able to just have fun? “Good.”
“Well, I guess I should be glad if you’re keeping this job,” Nat said, looking up at me across the counter. “We’ll kind of be working together!”
That was true. Nat was in the physical training program, and she spent a ton of time working with athletes in the training complex. We’d be sharing data logs, since she was listed as one of the trainers in the study I’d been assigned to.
“Yes,” I said, summoning up as much enthusiasm as I could. “I’m glad.”
Later I logged into the research portal to recheck my research assistant responsibilities. I wanted to be sure everything on my end was perfect. If there were going to be any issues with Ethan or the job at his lab, I had to be flawless. The issues would be on his side only.
My calendar had changed, and I squinted at it before I realized. All my previous TA responsibilities had been deleted. The only thing showing now were my lab hours. Each block was labeled “Calloway Lab.”
I was in this now for real. I had to make it work.
CHAPTER 19
SHEPHERD
I’d taken to spending my evenings at the campus athletic training complex. Being around Griff and the guys was too… complicated, since I wasn’t playing. It was like my mind had been forced to operate in a sphere parallel to the one they were in. I still thought about games, strategy—hell, Coach made me sit in on every meeting and I was practicing like my life depended on it (since it did, basically). But I wasn’t really a part of it.
I was like a ghost, still haunting the life I’d had before.
So I didn’t hang around the apartment. Our place was headquarters for the hockey team, and the common areas were dangerous if I was trying to ensure I didn’t run into Celeste.
And I was. She didn’t need me—I was a loose cannon and her life needed to stay straight. There was way too much at stake for us both and I didn’t trust myself to do what she needed if I was anywhere near her.
So the training room was my haven.
The rink had a training room we used after practices tomeet with the team trainers, but it was closed a lot of the time. And this was slightly more anonymous. Athletes from every team at Coldwater worked out here, used the saunas and cold plunges. Maybe they knew who I was, but they left me alone.
Best for everyone that way.
I was sitting on the edge of a table, essentially zoned. My hand was killing me—another reason I shouldn’t have punched Ethan. My blue and swollen knuckles reminded me what a loser I was, and I welcomed the visual and visceral ping so I didn’t manage to forget.
My hand was in my lap, steam coming off me since I’d just come out of a too-long sauna session and was probably dehydrated and on the verge of passing out. It was why I’d taken a seat here in compression shorts and nothing else. Eventually I’d find my way to some sports drink, take a shower, and go home. But for now? Limbo was just fine.
Until the door opened and Celeste walked in. She stopped just inside the door, and a football player practically ran right into her.
“Sorry,” she said, moving closer to me, but only by a margin. Her eyes were wide, wary. Her wavy dark hair was down, flowing like an untamed river around her sculpted shoulders, which showed because her sweatshirt had slipped down, revealing the brown sugar skin beneath.
My insides clenched at the sight of her. I knew she hated me now. She needed to. I needed her to. But god, she was perfect. She was everything I wanted. My hands closed into fists, sending pain spiking through my right arm. “Hey.”
“Sorry, I had no idea you’d be here,” she said, glancing up at me from below her lashes and then dropping her gazeto the clipboard in her hands. “Just needed to grab some logs from Nat…” she trailed off, her dark eyes rising to meet mine again. Holding there.
Desire coiled inside me, winding through every cell of my body, pushing the pain from my hand to the far reaches of my awareness. “Yeah, whatever.”
Stupid. Stupid.
She stepped across the room, headed for the exit, and panic rose within me. It wasn’t enough. I needed more. Being near her even this brief second had been the best thing I’d felt in days—even if she hated me.
“You’re just going to go?”
She stopped, turning to face me, and let out a pained sigh that matched the desolate look on her face. “What do you want me to do, Shepherd?” The question was nearly a whisper, and laced with every ounce of pain and frustration I felt.
