Page 14 of Unrivaled Love (D.C. Renegades #2)

Jo

Koolaid and Ketchup

I’m glad I checked the shampoo bottle before I got into the shower. Even after I emptied the cherry koolaid Bryson had dumped into the shower head, something told me to inspect the shampoo and when I found the ketchup I had to resist the urge to chuck it across the small room.

The baby shampoo Al left behind is going to have to do. I need a shower and while I’m not thrilled to smell like an infant it’s all I’ve got right now.

I glance out past the shower curtain to check on my one set of clothing.

That fucking kit. It’s a constant reminder of my suspension.

If Bryson steals it I’m back in the ugly man apron.

I’m not ready to go get new clothes yet.

I don’t trust Bryson enough to leave the property for an extended period of time. He’d change the locks or something.

The hot water hits my shoulders and I let it melt some of the tension I keep there. Even the team chiropractor has adjusted to how rock solid my traps are. We do ART sessions every day and the muscles are still locked up.

I roll my head from shoulder to shoulder and think about when I last felt relaxed.

Sitting in the hot tub alone last night was probably it.

Before that? I’m not really sure. Last season I took a day to veg out and read. I tasked myself to not think about soccer. One day off for the year. Maybe. Since US Team training will occupy most of my off season this year I could take my one day off today.

After this shower I’ll comfort myself with heroines who are able to kick ass and find love.

When I last set it down the characters were finishing a battle together and I think we’re going to build into a spicy chapter or two.

Flora’s main love interest is presumed dead, but I have theories he’s actually alive on the other side of the kingdom, working his way back to her.

After this last battle, I’m guessing she will release her feelings for her lost first love by turning to this second love interest, Sigrun, for comfort.

I’m looking forward to walking through the story with the character and letting all the feelings build slowly until the next action happens.

It’s unhinged, and I’d never admit it to anyone, but I get jealous of the characters sometimes.

What would it feel like to have someone willing to burn the world for me?

To have someone fight for me? Someone who has spent their whole life obsessed with me?

What would I do if I had to choose between my calling and my crush?

I haven’t felt the rush of falling for someone in a long time and I smile alongside the characters as they fall.

I turn and let the scalding water burn my face and chest for a moment before shutting the water off and grabbing a towel.

With an inhale and an exhale I dry off, put my kit back on, and decide I’m going to finish my chapter and then head into town to buy some new clothes. Maybe I can convince my roommate to agree to a cease-fire until I have another outfit.

I come upstairs and don’t see Bryson anywhere but my book is on the counter. I see the nail clippers next to the refrigerator and decide I’ll use them to slice through some of the yarn later because bobbing up and down is getting old.

With a glass of water in hand, I head out to the patio. Another scan confirms Bryson isn’t here either. I would have heard him yell if he found my other prank. Or maybe he passed out cold from the fear.

Guilt causes me to leave my book and water and head inside to double check he didn’t hit his head or something. I want to drive him away, not to the grave.

A quick peek confirms the bed is still made and I don’t see him anywhere so I’m guessing he hasn’t found it yet.

“What are you doing?” He yells from behind me and I jump.

“Nothing!” I sass back at him. He won’t believe me but that doesn’t matter. It’s the truth. Technically I was simply checking to make sure he wasn’t dead.

“I don’t believe you. What did you do to my room?”

“Nothing!” Right now. I add silently as I mentally cross my fingers absolving me from the lie.

“Bullshit Jo.” He grumbles as he pushes past me into the room and starts to investigate. That brush of his chest against mine singed my nerve endings and the sparks settled in my toes causing me to rock backwards slightly.

“Whatever.” I huff out and turn back to go read. My feud with Bryson is not going to help me relax and being near him just revs me up further.

I slide the patio door shut behind me and pick up the book. I open the page and immediately slap my hand down over the next one so my eyes don’t try to read ahead.

Flora jabs her elbow up into Sigrun’s gut causing him to lurch forward. She swiftly secures the sword and drives it through his chest.

“What!” I yell and I pull my hand back from the opposite page. “Oh no, no no no.” I flip back several pages and realize that Bryson moved my bookmark a few hundred pages forward. In one sentence I learned Flora has unalived her new love interest before I even learned if they fucked or not.

I seize an inhale and I expect a fury only Flora herself could understand to wash over me. I wait for aggression to fuel me into action.

But instead, a pain so deep, a hurt I feel in my bones, consumes me. My body feels cold, my head heavy. My fingers lose their grip on the book and it falls to the floor at my feet.

Then, I sob.

This is the worst thing that could happen to me right now.

A wail escapes me and my shoulders bounce as the emotion pours out.

All I wanted was a moment to escape. To forget about my suspension. To forget about the curly haired muscular man out to make my life a living hell.

A few moments to fall into another person’s world.

And he spoiled it.

The yarn is annoying. Hiding the food was bothersome. The koolaid and ketchup are more gross than anything else.

Moving my bookmark forward?

Cruel.

“Jo? Are you okay?” Bryson asks and I just sniffle and shake my head. I curl into myself on the deck chair.

“Go away, Bryson.” I murmur but the words come out all soggy.

“Is this because of the ketchup?”

“No.”

“The koolaid?”

“No.”

“The spiders?” The what? My shoulders freeze because those eight legged monsters are the devil’s spawn. Turns out fear is the only emotion that can trump my despair. “I’m just kidding Jo, I didn’t do anything with spiders.”

His chuff of a laugh makes my lip quiver again.

“Why did you do it, Bryson?”

“What?”

“Everything else was annoying but this was just mean. ”

“What was mean Jo?”

“Moving my bookmark!” I finally lift my head to look at him as I lash out. Bryson looks genuinely concerned. And he should. I’m a fucking mess right now. And I’d be irate if I wasn’t so sad. But the fight is gone. I can’t muster it. I’m tired.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He says as his eyes dart between me and my book.

“Oh sure,” I scoff. “You didn’t purposefully move my bookmark ahead by a few hundred pages to ruin the story for me.

It must have been someone else.” I throw my arms out wide.

“No one else is fucking here Bryson! And you’re not supposed to be here either!

I came to Telluride to chill the fuck out and I can’t do that with you here sabotaging me at every turn! ”

My chest rises and falls with my breath after the outburst.

“I didn’t move your bookmark.” He says cautiously. I study his eyes for any sign of deception.

None detected.

“You didn’t?” I ask as I wipe my nose with my forearm.

“No, but I think you moved mine.” Half of his mouth lifts in a grin before he chews his cheek to pull it back. The concern from earlier is morphing into amusement at my expense and it feels like lemon juice on a paper cut.

“What do you mean?” I ask because I don’t know if I want his ire or his pity or for him to go back to feeling nothing towards me at all.

“I think that’s my book.” He points to the bookon the floor by my feet.

I watch in silence as he steps over and lifts it.

He opens to the title page and my eyes follow his fingers as they trace the outline of an embossed stamp.

He hands the book over to me and I read “From the Library of Bryson Svoboda” circling a pair of crossed hockey sticks.

“You read?” I ask. He nods. “And you read enough to have a personalized library embossing stamp?”

He laughs and I don’t hate it. But I should hate it.

“Yeah, I read Jo. It helps me relax.”

“And you’re reading Raven Squall ?”

He pulls at the back of his neck. “Yeah, I didn’t get a chance to get into it during the season.”

I watch him pull his hand down over the cover. My eyes track the movement and my heart wishes he was soothing me with a hand down my back instead.

“So, are you okay?” He asks as he slowly lifts his eyes to mine.

“Yeah.” I admit in a daze. It was an accident but it led to very real feelings from me. I know I have things to work through. And this outburst has me thinking I have more to work through than I originally thought. “I’m just going to take a walk.”

“Okay.” He says quietly and I move towards the steps that lead to the trail. “Jo?”

“Yeah?”

I turn back to look at him and Bryson’s face holds sincerity as he says these next words. “I’m sorry.”