Page 44 of Don't Let Me Go (Don't Let Me 2)

“Yo, Baby Thorne!” Tukani yells, interrupting us again. “You comin’ or what?”

“We’re coming!” I call back to him as Burrows presses his hand to my lower back and leads me outside.

However, when a certain childhood friend of Colt’s comes into view, my heels dig into the ground.

Bloody hell.

I thought he wasn’t supposed to be here tonight.

14

BLAKELY

Burrows looks back at me as I stop short on the back patio, my heart racing.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yo, Tay-looooor!” Tukani bellows, cupping his hands around his mouth. It doesn’t matter that Theo’s only a few yards away from the patio table. Tukani’s hell-bent on getting the guy’s attention. “What’s up, man?”

Understanding flashes in Burrows’ eyes. He wraps his hand around my waist and pulls me against him.

I should like it. His touch. Instead, my spine feels as straight and unmoldable as a freaking two-by-four.

Theo doesn’t answer Tukani. His attention is glued to Burrows’ arm wrapped around my waist.

And I feel like I’m caught in a trap. Like I’m prey. Like the damn lion in front of me isn’t afraid to pounce and rip me to shreds. Or maybe it’s Burrows he’s planning on tearing apart.

We haven’t spoken since our impromptu movie night. Other than the death glares he likes to toss at his teammates anytime they’re near me, he’s given me a wide berth. Which is exactly what I want.

Isn’t it?

If only it made me feel better or erased my attraction to the bastard.

Fun fact: It hasn’t.

“We were gonna play a game of Strip Pong,” Tukani adds, oblivious to our little stare down. “You in?” He ambles closer to Theo and cuts him from my view. Well, partially, anyway. Theo’s stupid forearms are still in perfect sight, looking all tight and muscular as they lead to his clenched fists at his sides.

Someone’s grouchy.

“Who’s ‘we’?” Theo demands.

Tukani waves his arm toward Burrows and me on the patio next to the French doors, then motions to the handful of other people chatting near the patio table. Most are hockey players, but there are a few puck bunnies mixed in.

Burrows bends closer but keeps his voice low. “Wanna go back inside?”

Tearing my attention from the impending shit show in front of me, I look up at Burrows. There’s worry in his eyes. Trepidation. Anxiousness.

Is it because Theo is here? Can he see right through me the same way Theo always does? Am I so easy to read? The thought eats at me as I force a smile. “I’m good with whatever––”

“Blake’s playing Strip Pong?” The condescension in Theo’s voice rings loud and clear from all the way across the patio. It’s like our conversation about him not intervening in my life didn’t even happen. My hand clenches around my drink. I swear, it’s always one step forward and two steps back with the bastard, and it’s getting on my nerves.

“We should go,” Burrows starts, but I shake my head.

“Is there a problem with me playing Strip Pong?” I call back to Theo, interrupting his conversation with Tukani the same way he interrupted mine.

Tukani turns on his heel and steps aside, giving me a perfect view of the tick in Theo’s jaw.

The guy is pissed.

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