Page 107 of The Illicit Play

Blake steps back, frowning down at me. “I’m trying to help.”

“Yeah, well you’re not!”

Why am I still yelling at her? This isn’t her fault.

Letting out a short huff, I’m about to apologize when she growls, bunching her fists and snarling at me. “Fine! You grumpy asshole! Look after your own fucking injury, then!”

Snatching her pack, she wrestles it back onto her shoulders, making a right mess of the straps and ties.

With short screeches and snappy grunts, she soon has it hitched onto her back, her face red from exertion and her eyes bright with two words:Shut up!

I don’t say a fucking thing.

She stomps away from me in all her fuming glory, and I race to get myself patched up. I forgo the bandage and slap a few haphazard Band-Aids over the wound so I don’t smear blood everywhere. Shoving everything intothe first-aid kit, I chase after her when she gets out of sight.

Shit! Doing the right thing by my teammate is fucking hard.

I don’t want to betray him, but I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.

CHAPTER 34

BLAKE

This hiking trip is the worst fucking idea ever!

Why the hell did I want to come?

If I’d known Grady was going to be a grumpy ass, allergic to my touch, I would have just stayed at Football Frat.

And put up with Wily and Satch’s disappointment? Not to mention the plethora of answers they want over your college education.

“Grrr!” I stomp my foot, my anger rising when I hear Grady coming up behind me.

Screw him. I am not talking to him for the rest of the day.

He can take his fucking itinerary and shove it up his ass!

I hope his arm’s okay.

Shit, if anything happens to him out here and I have to be in charge… yeah, I’m not gonna manage that. I love this forest so much, and I see how instinctual it would be to survive out here. Everything he’s taught me so far has been very natural and common sense-ish. But if he got badly injured and I had to take the lead?

My pace slows just thinking about it, and I move to the edge of the trail, letting him pass me.

“You good?” he murmurs, lightly touching my elbow.

I ease away from his touch, refusing to look at him.

He holds his place, eyeing me for a beat until he figures out that I am not saying a damn word. His sigh tells me so.

“We’ll stop for lunch soon. There’s a clearing up ahead.”

I don’t respond, standing my ground until he’s moved off and I can just follow right behind him.

Okay, so maybe I’m dampening the mood a little, but he yelled at me first. I was trying to be nice, and it pissed him off, so I’ll ice him out and see what that does to his mood.

I’m just being logical, right?

Anger spikes through me again, knotting my stomach and stealing my hunger.