Page 45 of Burnout
“Why didn’t you just tell me that instead of storming out of here with no explanation?”
“I don’t like talking about my fucked-up family stuff, all right? I can be all in and not want to share every detail of my life.” His jaw hardens as his mouth pulls into a straight line.
I chew on my bottom lip. Crap. Crap. Crap. I’m a flaming pile of dog shit. I thought he was blowing me off and I might have overreacted a teeny tiny bit.
“So, are we good?” he asks, looking more composed, but his dark eyes are hard.
I feel like I should be asking him that. “Yeah, we’re good, Knox, but I’m still not sure this is a good idea. I don’t know how to help you. I thought getting you out of your comfort zone this week would help, but maybe I’m out of my depth.”
“You already have helped.”
Words I never dreamed of hearing from Knox Holland. “What do you mean?”
“Look.” He shoves his phone in front of me. The movement brings him closer. His arm presses against mine and I get a whiff of his cologne.
It’s a struggle to focus on the screen. The video is shaky, but I can tell it’s him. When he’s at the highest point of the jump, his legs fly out to the side and he lets go with one hand. It happens so fast that I don’t have time to be scared it’ll go wrong. It takes my breath away.
I keep watching the video of him landing and then riding toward the camera, body language clear that he’s thrilled with the jump, until he stops it.
“That looked great,” I tell him honestly.
“I know.” He wears a proud grin. Totally transformed from the frustrated, rough edges just moments ago.
“I don’t think I helped with that.”
“No, you did. Look, you’re right. I’ve given you a hard time. And I still maintain that cartwheels are bullshit, but I don’t know, something about all of it has me more aware of my body. Even when I’m up in the air.”
“Really?” A flame of hope blooms in my chest.
“Really.” Knox pulls back and stands in front of me. “Don’t quit on me.”
“All right. I’m in if you are.”
“We’re still doing this?” he asks again, voice filled with cautious optimism.
“Yes.” I unlock my Bronco. “But not tonight.”
His gaze drops over my bare legs and then flicks up like he’s finally realizing I’m not in gym clothes. I swear there’s disappointment in his expression when his eyes drift back to mine. “Why not? Hot date?”
“I have a study session tonight.”
His cocky and playful grin is back in an instant. “Oh, okay.”
“Rest up,” I tell him as I open the door of my vehicle. “You’re going to need it tomorrow.”
SEVENTEEN
“Doyou actually practice on that thing or do you just like using it as a seat?” I ask as I walk into the gym and find Avery sitting on the beam. More often than not that seems to be where she’s waiting for me.
Without replying, she pushes herself up to a standing position, does some sort of fancy turn, and then does a cartwheel and backflip off the end closest to where I’m standing.
Her head is held high as she stands upright on her toes, then glances at me.
“Better?” she asks, dropping down onto flat feet.
“I don’t know. I might need to see it again.” Or a dozen more times. She’s hot as fuck showing off. Especially when it’s for my benefit.
“I’ve already practiced today. It’s your turn.” She bumps her small body against mine before walking off toward the trampoline run.
