Page 17 of Ruled Out

Later that afternoon,Colin pulls up outside the athletic facility with me in the passenger seat. He parks his truck in front of the glass doors at the entrance of the building. Anyone standing inside would be able to see us clear as day.

“Got everything?” Colin asks as I hop out of the passenger seat, slinging my gym bag over my shoulder.

“Yup! Thanks again, Colin. You’re the best,” I say with afriendlysmile.

“Anytime. Breakfast again soon?” he asks, a hopeful look on his face.

“Sure, just text me,” I respond nonchalantly, waving and turning my shoulders towards the building.

“Will do! See ya later, Phee.”Phee?That’s new. God, I hope I’m not giving Colin the wrong idea. I’m just trying to be his friend. Although, I’ll admit, asking him to give me a ride today was probably a bad idea.

As I’m walking into the entrance, I smile slightly to myself.My little plan has worked.I see a dark shadow walking beside me, and I realize Knox must have arrived at the same time. He’s dressed in all black, wearing joggers paired with a dri-fit shirt that cuffs around his forearms deliciously. I’ve never seen him dressed in all black before anddamn,does it look good. He’s sporting a scowl, causing his brows to pinch together. He looks like he just finished a workout as sweat drips from his temples down to his tan neck.Jesus Christ, this man.Before I can open the door, he steps in front of me and pulls it open.

“After you,Phee,” he quips, almost mockingly using my nickname coined by Colin.

“What a gentleman,” I fake smile back at him, heading straight towards the locker room.

As promised, Knox took it easy on the team today. Practice consisted of just stretching and light agility training. I’m eager to get out on the field next week and start working on drills. I know my fielding abilities will be on par, but my focus on batting has been lacking. Maybe I should go to the batting cages and do some tee work before we hit the field. We have a few scrimmage games next month, and I want to make sure I’m prepared.

“Here you go. Drive safe,” calls a deep voice from a few feet away. Thankfully, I spin around fast enough to catch the keys Knox tosses at me.

I’m not sure what shifted after our conversation at the beach, but he’s been standoffish ever since. He’s barely spoken to me since practice started and won’t make eye contact for more than a second. Even now, his eyes are fixed straight ahead, avoiding me.

“Yes, sir,” I reply, knowing the comment will unnerve him.

And oh, did it. I see his jaw clench as the words leave my mouth. I think back to when we texted, how he asked me to never call him ‘sir’ in person. Could I have just walked away without blurting out a snarky comment? Sure. But if he wants to act like he can’t stand to look at me, I’ll make damn sure my presence is known.

When I realize he isn’t going to give me the time of day, I turn on my heels and make my way towards the parking lot. I know he’ll glance at me once my back is turned, which is why It takes everything in me to not to toss up the middle finger behind me.

I stop in my tracks as I approach my car.What the… no, he didn’t.My heart skips a beat when I realize what he did. My mouth hangs open in shock as I stare at the brand-new tire on my Mercedes.A tire replacing my spare.A tireIdidn’t have replaced. Is that why he was acting so weird when I asked about my keys earlier?

Oh my God, he spent his free time getting my tire changed.What would possess him to do that for me? Not to mention, a new tire isnotcheap.

I’m beginning to learn Knox’s love language is acts of service. Yes, he’s cold and broody at times, but what he did shows what kind of person he is. The big question mark that is Knox Moore is finally starting to make sense. The truth hits me in the stomach, knocking the wind out of me.Knox is attracted to me in a way he shouldn't be, and he’s doing a terrible job at hiding it.Suddenly, I feel like shit for being such a brat to him today.

Too ashamed of my behavior to thank him, I hop into my car and decide to send him a text. I can smell his woodsy scent filling the interior, making me wish he was next to me.He drove my Benz.Just the thought of him driving my car, his big hands wrapped around the steering wheel, has heat pooling in my core.

Me: Thank you for the tire. You didn’t have to do that. It really means a lot.

After I hit send, I get the urge to type out another message. Even though this push and pull between us has only been going on for a few days, I feel tired.Exhausted. I feel something for him, and I know he feels it too. I could ruin everything by sending this text, but I’m sick of avoiding the elephant in the room. Either I address it now, or we walk on eggshells for the next four years. My thumb shakes in anticipation as I hit send on the most honest text I’ve ever sent.

Me: I’m sorry for being difficult today. Well, really since the day I met you. If we’re being honest, though, you haven't been the most welcoming to me, either. I can’t seem to control my emotions when it comes to you. I’m not going to spell it out, because you know what I’m trying to say. I feel like there’s a rope between us that keeps getting thinner each day. I just wanted to say thank you. Not only did you look out for me yesterday, but you also probably spent your entire morning at the tire shop. I’m not bluffing when I say it’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I don’t hate you, Knox. What I feel for you is far from hate.

My anxiety is through the roof the entire drive home. Sweaty hands gripping the wheel, I can’t help thinking through a million different ways he might respond.If he even responds. Will he understand what I’m trying to say?That I feel things for him I shouldn't.What if he feels the same? It’s not like anything could ever happen. He’s my coach. This is his job, his livelihood. I’m toying with his livelihood by sending him messages like that. My chest tightens as I let my intrusive thoughts take over.

Oh my God, what did I do?I sent that text without thinking through the repercussions, the consequences, though that seems to be how my brain operates when it comes to Knox. I spend the rest of the afternoon waiting for his response, but it never comes.

I wake up the next morning to see that Knox read my text, but hechoseto not reply. I can’t help but feel a tinge of pain in my chest, knowing that I made a complete fool of myself.

NINE

PHOEBE

“Come on, get up,” Maisie commands, towering above me as I lay on the couch.

Aside from class and practice, I’ve done nothing but lounge around and feel sorry for myself all day. It’s been almost twenty-four hours since I texted Knox, and he still hasn't acknowledged it. He didn't even glance my way one time at practice today. In all honesty, I didn’t go out of my way to look at him either. I was too afraid of what I might see in his face; would he be angry, appalled, or disgusted by my message?

I really have no valid reason to be upset, but I can’t help it. I feel a pit in my stomach when I think of how vulnerable I was in that text. I can’t help but feel pissed at him for leaving me on read. In reality, though, what did I expect him to say? That he also felt the instant connection? That every nerve in his body comes to life when we’re together? Of course not. He’s my coach. He could single handedly ruin his career by sending a text like that. Maybe I’m just pissed at myself for sending it in the first place.

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