Page 39 of The Art of Falling

“The grassy knoll.” I bark out a laugh, quite humored by her reference.

“Shut up. You understand my point.”

“I don’t, actually.”

“You say you’re not a manwhore and yet you stroll around with a new girl on your arm every five minutes. What’s that old saying? Oh yes, actions speak louder than words...” She gives me a wicked grin, proving that she likes being right, even though she’s more wrong than she knows.

“You judge me too harshly.”

“I judge you fairly, based on youractions.” She further accentuates the word. “Now, be quiet. I have somewhere to be this evening and I don’t want to be late.” She attempts to refocus on her work.

“And where is that?” I ask out of sheer curiosity, not for one second expecting her to tell me.

“I’m having dinner with Tigs, if you must know.”

A flash of jealousy hits me like a blast of frigid air, the feeling so sudden and intense that I feel momentarily frozen by the shock of it. You wouldn’t know it by my expression, though. They don’t say I have ice in my veins for nothing. It’s not that nothing rattles me. It’s just that I know how to maintain my composure when it does. And that goes for both on and off the field.

“Is that so?” I arch a brow.

“It is.” She glances over at me.

“I got the impression last week that you weren’t interested in Titus.” I use his real name.

“He’s a friend...” She quickly looks away again.

“Just a friend?”

Her gaze instantly comes back to me.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes. And he happens to be having a hard time right now, which you would know if you were any kind of teammate.”

Her insult doesn’t sting the way maybe she hoped it would. Because while yes, like everyone, I get consumed by my own shit and don’t pay as much attention to what’s going on with others as I should, I actually talked to Tigs last night after being prompted by Higgins that something might be astray with him.

Turns out, he was right and Tigs is dealing with some parental things at home—mainly the fact that his dad kicked his mom and sister out and moved his pregnant girlfriend, that no one knew he had, into their home. It’s clear he’s been drinking more than usual, but he assured me he’s good and that he’ll lay off the bottle. Either way, I fully intend to keep a close eye on him. The last thing he needs is to find himself off the team too. I’m pretty sure it’s the only thing keeping him from completely spiraling.

“I’m aware.” I keep my reply at that. “You know he has a thing for you, right? He’s really not in a place to have you leading him on.” It’s not untrue, but I say it for purely selfish reasons.

“I would never lead anyone on. I’m not like you. I don’t play games. And for your information, what happens between me and Titus is no one’s business but our own.” She says like she’s really just put me in my place this time.

It’s cute that she thinks she’s the one in control here.

I could snap my fingers and shift this entire interaction on its head.

She has no idea the restraint I possess, the strength it takes not to bend her over the desk she’s currently sitting behind and show her who’s really in charge.

I could let myself go. I could take her right here and now and know with complete certainty that she would welcome it. I can see her now, cheeks pink as I dip my fingers inside. The sounds she would make as my thumb stroked her soft nub. The way she would beg for more when I teased myself at her entrance.

Fuck, how sweet it would fucking be.

I shift in my stool as my growing erection presses against the seam of my shorts. Just the thought of being with her has me wound so tight she’d probably touch me once and I’d explode like a pubescent teenager who’s never fucked before.

So really, who’s actually in charge here?

Because the more I let my thoughts run rampant, the more I think that maybe it isn’t me at all.

“Despite what you may think, I don’t play games either.”

“Yeah, okay.” She snorts, dropping the pencil she’s holding to exchange it for a different color.

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