Page 23 of Not that Impressed (Houston Pumas #3)

I let all my breath rush out of me. Will stares at me still. His eyes say he wants to haul me into his arms and stalk out of here, find a place where we can figure out exactly what’s happening between us. My eyes probably say I want him to.

My hands are still resting on his chest when I lower down from my tiptoes. His hands stay at my waist. There’s something undeniably sexy about the way his hands grasp my sides, fingers brushing skin where my t-shirt has hiked up.

“It wasn’t a good idea,” I whisper. I try to take a step back, but Will doesn’t break his hold on me.

He raises his eyebrows, and my cheeks, which were starting to cool, erupt with heat again.

His expressions are not just blank or always unreadable.

There’s a range, and now that I’m studying him closely, I see the difference. This is intense.

It would be a good idea, his expression says.

I’m having a hard time thinking of reasons to contradict that, especially the way he’s still holding me close.

“We hate each other,” I remind him.

He looks down at my hands then at his then back to my face. Yesterday I would’ve thought the look he’s giving me is critical. Today it’s … not that. His eyes burn with a recklessness that echoes my thoughts even if my brain says we shouldn’t.

“Do we?” he asks, his tone even.

No, hate is definitely the wrong word. “It would be messy. We just spent four minutes silent because every time we talk we fight.” I tilt my head knowingly at him. How’s he going to argue that when it was his idea?

His lip turns up faintly, but the almost smile makes me a little lightheaded. “I don’t do messy. ”

I take a step back, out of his hold, hoping the space will help me think rationally. But even as I take another step back, my stomach drops in disappointment. The heat that coursed through me moments ago starts receding, leaving me feeling cold and out of sorts. I need some water.

“I’m going to get a drink,” I say, pointing to the bar on the other side of the room. Will nods and shifts backwards. I can’t help but turn back to look at him every so often as I cross the room, and every time, I find him looking back at me.

I don’t know what just happened, but I wish it hadn’t stopped.

I’m gulping down ice water when Libby finds me at the bar.

“Coke, Libby?” the bartender asks with a smirk. He works all of Mom’s events because she knows she can trust him.

She scowls. “Yeah, fine.” She turns to me. “What was going on with you and Will? I can’t even believe you’d stand that close to someone like him,” she spits at me in disgust.

Good question, Libby. I still haven’t decided what that was. “What do you have against Will?” I don’t know how much of the story Grayson told her. This is a good way to fish for information.

Her mouth drops open. “He got Grayson fired, and no one will sign him. He’s ruined Grayson’s career, and now Grayson can’t even come to a party like this because he knows it will be awkward, since Will always makes sure the team takes his side. And they have to. He’s the star. Ugh.”

Anger flares at Grayson. Will’s words that I’m not the first person to believe Grayson’s charm wiggles through my stomach. I still hate that I fell for his lies. And not being the only person Will’s had to defend himself and Anna to doesn’t make it better.

The bartender puts the Coke down in front of Libby. He’s added a cherry and a little blue umbrella. I hold back a snort of laughter.

“Wow, Milo,” Libby says, swiping the glass from the bar to take a long sip. He walks off chuckling to himself.

“If everyone is always siding with Will, maybe there’s more to the story,” I say once Milo is gone.

Walking this line is tricky, especially since I don’t want to give Libby any more information on the issue.

She doesn’t know how to keep her mouth shut in front of the cameras.

If Janelle and I turn down the network on the spin-off, will they offer something to Libby?

She could get them more drama than they could handle and end up in the middle of a train wreck.

Libby scoffs at me. “Will is totally awful. Even you know that. He’s just hot.”

“Grayson isn’t a good guy, Libby,” I say seriously. “Just because he’s charming doesn’t make him right. He’s telling you lies because you have a TV show and can spread them to the world.”

She shakes her head, glaring at me. “No, he’s not, Ellie. Not everyone who wants to be my friend is using me.”

I swallow my frustration. She’s seventeen. It would hurt to believe that people only get to know you because you’re a TV star.

“He told me not to tell anyone,” she says, and I’m surprised she doesn’t add ha to the end of that.

She’s being played like a Logan Knox hit. “Stay away from Grayson, Libs.” I step closer to her, making my expression as serious as possible. “Trust me on this. Adult men should not be hanging out with or texting teen girls.”

She presses her lips into a tight line. “I know what happened. I don’t know how Will convinced you to be on his side too, but it’s wrong , Ellie.

Will not liking that Grayson wanted to date his cousin is no excuse for what he did.

Dude needs to learn some chill.” Libby shoots me a scathing look and walks off.

I cringe, especially since Grayson has added to his story since trying to sell it to me.

I want to slap myself for gulping up his words.

Milo is serving someone near us, so I raise a finger to signal that I need a refill on the ice water, and he nods at me.

Will isn’t awful, and he’s already got the chill down.

It doesn’t surprise me that he doesn’t want to do something messy. The rumor about him and Linda Wilson was made up, and yet it turned his life upside down. No one talked about his football career for months. He was constantly defending himself in the media, and no one listened.

If we started something and it didn’t go well?

He’d have to deal with everyone sticking their nose in his personal life again.

Is it arrogant of me to think it’d be worse with me?

I’m a lot more visible than Linda. I blow out a disappointed sigh, which is dumb since I’ve already decided that something with Will isn’t a good idea.

I turn away from the bar while I wait for Milo to refill my water and meet his eyes from where he’s standing with some other players, listening to Logan perform her last song of the night.

Given the heated way he’s still looking at me—maybe I don’t want him to be chill.