Page 14

Thea

“So, then he passes me the biscuit—”

“Hold on,” I interrupted, and Henry’s shoulders slumped. I dropped my head and then pinched the bridge of my nose. He might’ve been annoyed by the questions, but my head hurt, and it was all because he was talking nonsense. “The dog? How are you able to pass a fully grown dog between the two of you?”

Henry’s face fell before he masked it with a tight smile. I was trying my hardest to be interested in everything he was saying. It wasn’t my fault he was boring. Maybe that was harsh. He was a nice guy, but almost too nice. Like he had his guard up because he was afraid something he’d say might offend me.

Was it strange that I wanted to be offended? That I wanted to light so much fire in him that he could only give me a sarcastic comment back.

“No. No. Mr. Biz or Stanley Biscuit is Cade’s dog.” I nodded, pretending I knew the difference between Cade, Dash, Alex, Erik, and Brooks. I didn’t. I was actually impressed I remembered all of their names, but that could be due to the fact I thought they sounded like porn stars. Combine that with their hockey sticks, and all these images were coming to my mind. None were clean, and I was okay with it. “I was referring to the puck in ice hockey. Sometimes, we call it a biscuit.”

Sometimes, I like to call my pussy Vajayna to feel more exotic, but I don’t go around telling people about it. I inwardly rolled my eyes because he was worse than Tanner when talking terminology. At least I could understand football since I had watched so much of it. Henry could speak Danish and I’d probably be able to understand more than this.

“Oh, okay, so you passed the biscuit to your friend …” I smiled, hoping he would keep talking so I wouldn’t have to.

“My teammate,” he gritted out through clenched teeth. He’d done a good job at hiding his annoyance earlier, but that fa?ade was crumbling by the minute. His razor-sharp jaw showed every tic. Our gazes connected.

Tired eyes. Biting back words. Deep breaths.

He was annoyed, but I wasn’t exactly happy with him. Never in my life did I think I’d want to hear about football. Alas, this entire shamble of a dinner only proved there was a sport more boring, and it involved shoving ice gremlins into the equivalent of a greenhouse, or at least that was what I imagined when Henry described the game. On second thought, that sounded too fun.

“I passed Erik the puck, but he wasn’t ready for it, and somehow, he hit a slapshot right into Brooks’s face.”

I dropped my jaw. “What?” I pretended to be surprised since it sounded like something that might hurt.

Henry nodded. “I felt so bad. I haven’t been able to look at Brooks and his blown-up chipmunk cheek since.”

“How do you know he looks like a chipmunk if you haven’t looked at him since he got hit?”

“What?”

“Well, you just said you couldn’t look at him after hitting him. Knowing that he looked like a chipmunk would suggest that you did, in fact, look at him.”

He blinked a couple of times, taking me in. Was I being facetious? Yes. I was trying to get something out of him other than wide-eyed confusion.

“That’s a good point. I, uh, guess it’s because other people told me.” I frowned, so annoyed that was his answer. Why couldn’t he throw me a sarcastic barb? He was just so bland.

My fingers danced across the table as I subtly checked my phone for the time. We’d been on this date for an hour and a half, and I was silently begging my brother to call me so I had an excuse to leave.

After the stunt Jackson pulled yesterday, I doubted he’d care if I showed up earlier. If Britt were to be believed, he’d probably like it. I snorted thinking about it. Britt had to be messing with me. There was no way Jackson was interested in anything other than annoying me.

I yawned, making a show of my stretching. “You know what? It’s getting late. I might need to head home soon.”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” He rubbed his hands together, his gaze shifting around the room. “Can I walk you home?”

“We live in the same apartment block so it would be weird if you didn’t.”

He let out a chuckle. “Yeah, that’s a good point.” It was then I started to wonder if he thought I just said that to get him to come home with me.

This was terrible, and even though I wanted to be anywhere but here, I kept my smile in place. I’d bump into him after this, and I didn’t want things to get awkward. It wasn’t his fault he was as bland as that biscuit he kept talking about. I was just used to someone with a little more fire.

He chuckled, and I wondered if he thought this was going as terribly as I did. Judging by the fact he tried to take my hand, I’d take it as a no. He must have thought this was going well, which kind of made me feel bad for him. Poor guy.

“Thanks for tonight,” I said, standing in front of the apartment door. Henry smiled, and although there was a slither of guilt in my stomach, I was relieved the night was finally over. My fingers brushed against the doorknob, itching to turn it and end this whole thing, but I was too polite to do that. We were neighbors, after all.

Henry shifted on the balls of his feet, hands stuffed in his pockets, looking almost … shy? Strange. That move reminded me of Jackson this morning. As I took in more of Henry’s features, I started to realize Jackson and Henry did kind of look alike. Dark hair, dimples, bashful smile. Jackson was about three times Henry’s size, but the resemblance was there.

“I had a really great time tonight,” he said, his smile a little too wide. A little too eager. Would it be mean to invite him in for a coffee just to annoy Jackson? I rolled my eyes. Always thinking about Jackson.

Before I could decide either way, the door swung open, and I stumbled backward … straight into Jackson’s bare chest.

Shirtless. Again. I was starting to wonder if Jackson had burned all his shirts just to taunt me.

His warm breath tickled my neck, and I said, “Jackson” a little too wistfully.

He looked down at me, then up at Henry, assessing him.

I could feel the tension in the hallway and yet … I wasn’t moving. I was still nestled against Jackson, soaking in the warmth of his skin and the solid feel of his muscles under my palm. Why did I have this yearning to map the ridges of his muscles with my—

Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope.

We are not thinking about Jackson like that. He’s an asshole, after all.

“Hey, guys!” Jackson said way too cheerfully. “How’d the date go?”

“You gotta be kidding me?” I scoffed, pushing off him and brushing the imaginary dust off my arms. “Were you just standing behind the door, waiting?” I took him in, ignoring the panging in my stomach. It was just hunger from the lack of sustenance from this date. I didn’t like to eat when I was out with new people in case they commented about how large my meals were compared to my size.

“Pyro, your voice is so loud I heard you coming from downstairs.”

Liar. He was up to something; I was sure of it.

I hadn’t been talking when we came up the stairs. Meaning he had been listening, and if he was willing to lie about something so small, what else was he willing to lie about?

Britt’s texts flashed in my mind. The nagging thought that maybe he’d sent them to mess with me lingered.

My stomach lurched as Jackson opened the door. “Come on in,” he said to Henry. “I’m sure Thea wants you to have a coffee before you make your long, treacherous journey up the stairs.” His lips quirked. Was he trying to ruin this for me?

“Are you sure?” Henry asked from behind. Although I was shooting daggers at Jackson, he was ignoring me. So I decided to take a different approach. If Jackson wanted to be annoying, I could be too.

“Of course,” I cooed, looping my arm through Henry’s. He tensed, probably surprised since I rejected contact earlier. I squeezed his bicep, pretending to be impressed. “Wow, this jacket really hides how muscular you are, Henry.”

He let out an awkward chuckle. “I guess I should’ve offered you my jacket.”

“Come on in,” Jackson said, interrupting us yet again, holding the door open like a damn doorman.

He wanted to play. Fine.

I lifted my chin and led Henry inside, pretending I wasn’t irritated when they fist-bumped. Men.

“Missed you at The Draft this week,” Henry said as I pulled him into the kitchen.

“That’s because the draft is next week. And Jackson’s not going to be anywhere near it.”

Jackson snorted, following closely behind us. “He meant the dating mixer on campus. Surprised you didn’t go.”

“Oh, that draft.” I waved Jackson off, laughing. “I wasn’t interested.”

“Yes, I vaguely remember you saying that all athletes besides your brother were meatheads and not worth your time.”

Jackson was going all out trying to ruin this for me. Jackass.

Henry shot me a curious glance, but I brushed it off. “I wasn’t talking about hockey players. Just football players. The fact that Jackson didn’t understand that just proves what a meathead he is.”

“Whoa.”

“Ouch, Pyro. That cut deep,” Jackson said as he grabbed his beer from the coffee table and relaxed onto the couch. “Grand Slam!” he shouted at the TV. Fireworks exploded on the screen as a hunky blond man rounded the bases. Yeah, it was definitely only meatball football heads I wasn’t interested in. Did I just say meatball? Was my brain malfunctioning over that baseball player’s hotness?

“Wow. That guy is ridiculous,” Henry said, shaking free of me and strolling to the back of the couch so he was just behind Jackson.

“And so fun to watch. Tate’s one of the best baseball players the MLB has ever seen.”

“You’re telling me,” I muttered as I walked over to the kitchen and pulled out a soda from the fridge. “Would you like something to drink?” I asked with pointed annoyance as I kept my face in the cool air.

“I’d love another beer, gorgeous.”

I banged my head against the shelf in pure shock. Did … did Jackson just call me gorgeous? Snapping my gaze to the living room, I found Henry sitting beside Jackson, ignoring me.

So much for making him jealous.

I sighed and flopped onto the recliner, glaring at the TV but giving Henry passing glances every few seconds.

Why was I pretending there was chemistry there?

Henry was sitting closer to Jackson than he had me the entire night. If I left, maybe they could have the alone time they were craving.

Wait … was I jealous?

“Where’s my beer?” Jackson threw a smirk in my direction.

“You can get it yourself. You could use the cardio.”

Henry took in a sharp breath, and Jackson laughed. As usual, he knew how to annoy me without having to try.

“Ouch. Cardio? If you wanted another round, you should’ve accepted my offer before you left.”

Another round?

“Wait. Is there something going on between the two of you?” Henry looked between us, and I sat up in my seat.

“No.”

“Yes.”

We spoke at the same time. I nearly leaped across the room and karate chopped Jackson into oblivion. What the hell was he trying to do?

“Deny it all you want, Pyro, but I can’t get that night off my mind.”

“Then you’re delusional, because nothing happened.”

“I wouldn’t call it nothing.” That smug smile. I wanted to kill him. “And how do you think Tanner is going to react when he finds out you cheated on his best friend with a hockey player?”

Cheated?

“Have you been drinking, Jackson?”

“Nope.” His eyes locked onto mine, dark and unreadable, sending heat prickling over my skin. I’d seen Jackson angry before, but this? This was something else.

“You know what? I think I should go,” Henry said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. Unease filled his gaze as he looked between us.

“It’s not what you think,” I said, stepping toward him. “There’s nothing going on between me and Jackson.”

“Speak for yourself,” Jackson muttered under his breath.

Henry backed his way out of the door, shaking his head. “It’s all good. I’ve been caught in a situation similar to this before, and I’ve learned my lesson. It was nice getting to know you, Thea.”

Jackson growled at Henry. What was wrong with him?!

“I’ll, uh, see you guys later.” He couldn’t get out of our apartment quick enough, and skittered out like a scared dog, leaving me with Jackson and his stupid baseball cap.

“Sorry, that didn’t work out for you, Pyro.”

I closed my eyes and blew out a breath before clenching and unclenching my fists. Why, oh why was he so hell-bent on making my life difficult?!

“What is wrong with you?” I gritted out before turning on my heel and stomping toward Jackson, wagging my finger in his face. “You are not my brother, and even if you were, you don’t get to dictate who I date or who I want to bring home.”

Jackson was unfazed by my reaction. “Did you think I did that for Tanner?”

“Why else would you do it?”

He glared at me, his burning gaze prickling my skin at every point his eyes landed on.

“Why else would you want to destroy my barely existent sex life?!” Jackson’s gaze didn’t waiver, pressuring me into talking more. “I mean, how can I be a pick-me if even the guys I’m trying to take home would rather watch some hunky ball player swing a bat than look at me?”

“You aren’t the problem, Thea.” The deep tenor in his voice surprised me. It was unexpected and rough, and as much as I would never admit it out loud, it sent a shiver straight to my core.

I gulped as he stood, making his way over to me. “Do you want to know what your problem is?”

I nodded but blurted out my own answer. “You. You’re my problem. As long as you’re here, you’re going to do my brother’s bidding.”

Jackson scratched his chin and let out a low, sexy chuckle. Shit, I was really in desperate need for some if I was thinking about how sexy Jackson was.

“Nah, T. That’s not your problem. Your problem is that you’re wasting your time with the wrong kind of guys.”

“And what kind of guys should I be looking for, then?!”

He gazed straight into my eyes as he walked toward me. Instinctively, I stepped back, thinking I was discreet enough that he wouldn’t notice. When I hit the wall behind me, I realized that wasn’t the case.

“You need someone with more fire and passion.”

I frowned. “Henry had plenty of passion. He’s obsessed with hockey.”

“No, T. Passion is seeing you in that dress and realizing there’s no better sight in this world … Except maybe it draped on the floor.”

“Why would you want to look at a dress on the floor?”

“I shouldn’t have to explain it.”

If it was on the floor, then it wouldn’t be on me? My eyes widened at the implication, which I had missed because it kind of sounded like flirting, and that wasn’t something Jackson and I did.

I swallowed as Jackson came closer.

“Is everything okay, Baseball Cap?”

I was trying to lighten the mood, but I didn’t know where to look.

“Everything’s great now that you’re back. I was worried about you. How are you?”

“I’m good,” I squeaked out. He towered over me, and I felt claustrophobic under his glare. “You know what? I think I’m going to go to bed. I’m exhausted.” I yawned, overacting.

“You need some company?”

Company? Was he suggesting he could be my company? I tipped my head back on an overly obnoxious laugh because I didn’t know what else to do. Jackson had done a lot of weird things tonight and over the past few days but asking me to be his bed buddy had the be the weirdest, including those texts from Britt.

Was I going to accept his offer?

Not in this lifetime.