Page 70

“Okay. Thanks.” I blow out another long breath. “Sorry. I just got stressed.”

“No need to apologize.” She smiles, but her eyes are still searching my face. “The rest of the stuff is on the floor in the closet. Do you mind grabbing it?”

“Aye aye, Captain.” I try to lighten things up, but my voice comes out strained and stilted.

The tension just keeps growing as we carry the gear out to the field. The walk is a few minutes long, and the prolonged silence feels like a sheet of sandpaper grating against my skull.

I just want this to be normal again. I want to go back to joking and laughing and feeling like we’re locked in our own little world. I want her to kiss me again. We’ve barely even touched since that night at her place.

Maybe I was terrible in bed.

It’s not the first time I’ve thought it over the past couple days. I know I can’t have imagined how intense the night was, and there’s no way that was all one-sided, but maybe I was just really bad at eating her out.

Maybe she’s trying to figure out how to end this—whatever this is.

By the time we reach the middle of the field, I’ve spiralled so much that my attempt to gently set the gear down turns into me dropping it all with a clatter. The ball sack’s drawstring catches on one of my fingers, releasing a volley of lacrosse balls that scatter across the field around me.

“Fuck!” I shout, all of my nerves and frustrations making their way into the word.

I crouch down and start grabbing whatever gear I can reach, but I freeze when the tips of Becca’s shoes appear in front my eyes.

“Hope,” she says softly before crouching down. I keep staring at her shoes. “Hope, look at me. What’s wrong?”

I hesitate for a few seconds and then shift my gaze up to meet hers. “You still want to do this, right?”

She’s resting on her knees, our faces just a couple feet apart. “By this, you mean...?”

“I mean this.” I gesture between us. “It’s okay if you don’t, but I’d like to know.”

“Of course I do.” She inches a little closer. “You...I can’t stop thinking about you. I don’t want to stop thinking about you.”

“Really?” I whisper.

She nods, the corners of her mouth lifting. “Really. I’m...I like you a lot.”

Something in me releases at the words, like a spring that was waiting for just the right trigger. The whole world seems to take on a golden tint as my chest floods with warmth.

“I like you too,” I murmur. “A lot.”

She nods, her smile getting bigger and bigger. “That’s good.”

“So, that night at your house...” I can’t help adding. “It was...I mean...I got worried that I wasn’t very good at—”

“Hope, oh my god.” She grabs one of my hands and takes it in hers. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it for a second. That was...I’ve never felt anything like that. Why would you think it wasn’t good?”

I drop my eyes to our hands and mumble, “It’s just...we haven’t even held hands since then.”

“Oh, Hope.” She squeezes my fingers. “I’m so sorry. That’s my fault. I’ve been stressed and kind of paranoid about the team. I want to make this work. I promise I will. I just need a little time to figure it out, but I shouldn’t have let that make you feel unwanted. You are very wanted.”

I look up just in time to see her eyes flash as her tongue darts out to wet her lips.

“I want you so bad,” I whisper before I can stop myself. “I wish I could kiss you right here.”

She freezes, and my cheeks flush at my mistake. Our teammates haven’t arrived yet, but we’re not exactly hidden out here in the middle of all the sports fields.

“I know we can’t,” I rush to add. “I just—”

I don’t get time to finish my sentence before her mouth crashes into mine. For a second, I’m stunned, but then her lips shift and mine respond, starting the first step of a dance that leaves us breathless. Her fingers are still laced with mine, squeezing hard as her other hand cups the back of my neck.