Page 78 of Don't Let Me Go (Don't Let Me 2)

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask.

“Fine.”

“You’re sure?” I repeat, unconvinced. I take a fresh corner of the washcloth and run it beneath his nose. At least it isn’t bleeding anymore, but it’ll definitely be swollen for the next few days. Poor guy.

“Yeah, Blake. I’m sure.” He grabs my wrist and leans even more into my palm, soaking up my heat through the thin layer of nitrile of the glove separating us. I watch a drop of sweat trickle from his hairline down to his temple. It isn’t fair. How attractive this man is. All stubbled jaw and surfer boy with a side of arrogance I most definitely should not find endearing or charismatic. But it is. He is. Even when he’s covered in sweat and blood, he’s still the most gorgeous person I’ve ever laid eyes on.

And those eyes?

Damn his eyes.

I swear they can see into my soul.

It isn’t fair.

What he does to me.

How he makes me feel.

His gaze softens as if he can read my thoughts. “Blake, I’m––”

“You did really well out there.” I murmur, desperate to temper our connection.

He chuckles. “Thanks. Now, if I could figure out how to do well in here, that’d be great.”

I don’t have to ask what he’s referring to. I already know. Things have been weird between us, and it’s been even more stilted and awkward since our little chat about the whore money in the locker room. But it isn’t his fault. It’s mine. He’s been trying. He’s been texting. He’s been wanting to talk, and all I’ve done is push him away.

I close my eyes. “Theo…”

“I’m really sorry, Blake.”

I meet his gaze and let out a sigh. “We’ve been through this. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I do,” he argues. “Let me make this right.”

“There’s nothing to make right. I’m fine.”

“Bullshit. Give me a chance. Let me make it up to you. To Colt.”

“Is that why you’re bringing this up?” My lungs constrict in my chest. “To make it up to Colt?”

“And you,” he repeats softly. “Let me take you out. Let’s get rid of this…awkwardness. It doesn’t have to be weird between you and me.”

“It’s always been weird between you and me,” I counter, biting back my annoyance. I try to move my hand away from his face, but he cups it with his own, forcing me to keep my hand in place.

“No, it hasn’t.”

“Yes, it has.” The washcloth in my opposite hand lands on the cushioned bench with a wet plop, and he lets me go. But I’m done pretending. I’m done hiding away from the reality of our relationship, no matter how rocky it’s been, just to keep up the ruse we’re…what exactly? I think this is the problem. I don’t know what we are. Enemies? Hardly. Sure, the bastard gets under my skin because he’s so damn overprotective, but I’ve never hated him.

Friends? I guess it’s closer, but I’ve never imagined any of my other friends naked. I’ve never wanted them to kiss me the way I want Theo to.

But lovers? I can’t even think the word without wanting to laugh. Theo doesn’t do lovers. Hell, I don’t do lovers, either. But Theo? He really doesn’t do them. Not that it matters. The fact is simple. It’s always been weird between us, and I’m done avoiding the truth and how much it slays me.

Theo touches my chin and tilts my head up until our gazes meet. “Talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking. Tell me how I can fix this. Because seeing you all torn up inside? Seeing how you refuse to look at me or answer my texts? It’s killing me, Blake.”

“You want the truth, Teddy?” I whisper.

“Yeah.”

---