Page 119 of Unfix Me

“Stop calling me that,” I growled.

A smirk played on his lips. “If you’re not following your bestie around, you’re getting territorial over a football. Do you get off on watching me?”

“Do you get off on making drunk phone calls?”

His eyes widened briefly before he smoothed his expression. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I cocked my head. Either he really didn’t remember or he was trying to save face. Interesting. I didn’t see the point in lying about it.

“It was nice to know you were thinking about me over the holidays,” I noted. “Even if youhate meso much.”

“Everyone hates you. You’re insufferable.”

“Fuck you.”

I knocked the ball out of his hand, making him narrow his eyes.

“Insufferable and childish.”

Balling my fists, I tried to refrain from doing something worse. Screw it.

I made as if to punch him so that he’d be distracted when I pivoted and kicked the back of his knee. He swore and dropped to the ground. He was quicker than I expected and managed to sweep my feet out from under me. When I was on my back, he locked a hand around my throat, holding me down in the grass.

“God damnit, Densmore.”

“Don’t call me that!” I shouted. It wasn’t my name. It belonged to my dad, not me.

“Then stop getting on my last nerve. Why do you keep trying to challenge me?”

Biting the inside of my cheek, I realized that I didn’t have an answer for that. He bothered me; he had since I met him during summer practice. The way he looked at me was like he didn’t believe I was good enough to be here. I wanted to prove him wrong.

“Answer me,” he demanded.

Grabbing his wrist, I arched upward and lifted my chin in a challenge.

“I just want you to get out of my way,” I sneered.

His grip tightened and his breaths came more rapidly. I watched a bead of sweat roll down his chest and without thinking about it, I brushed the fingers of my free hand over his abdomen. He inhaled sharply, his eyes wide as he stared down at me. Abruptly, he released me and got to his feet.

“You’re worthless, West.”

I stared, unblinking, as he walked off the field. I’d heard it plenty of times before, but from him, it pissed me the hell off.

Looking down at my fingers, I saw the slight dampness from where I’d touched him. I wiped my hands on my pants and looked at his receding figure.

What a dick.