Page 20 of The Upside of Falling
She might not bite but she sure as hell isn’t innocent either.
“Yeah, okay.” Stepping to the side, I try to make my way to our lanes, but Rory must have another idea because she stops me, hand to my arm, her pull tougher than I expected.
“You don’t have to be rude. You can say things likehi, how are you?How was your Thanksgiving?”
Relenting—because she’s right, I don’t have to be a dick—I face her and ask, “How was your Thanksgiving?” It might sound a little forced, a little robotic, but I’m hanging on by a thread here. Being close to her again, hearing the softness in her honey-like voice, spreads goose bumps over my skin; it’s almost too much to bear.Why does she affect me like this?
And my robotic voice doesn’t even deter her, because she puts on a happy face and answers me. “It was okay. Family came in from out of town, Fort Collins actually. Spent the day stuffing myself, and worked it all off this morning at my classes—at least I hope I did. Did you have a good Thanksgiving?”
“Spent it with Stryder. It was fine.”
“You didn’t go home?” She crinkles her nose. “Aren’t you local?”
“No need to go home,” I answer, short andnotsweet.
Understanding hits her as she nods her head. “Well, I’m glad you were able to spend it with a friend. Are you as good at bowling as you are at pool?”
“Suck at it.”
“Me too, but I do love a good black light.” She plucks at my shirt, and her energy is so joyful and happy as she ignores my rude and moody attitude. It’s as if it has no effect on her at all. Strange. “Looks like you wore the right shirt for a good time.”
Christ.
“It was the only thing I had left that was clean. When I packed, I wasn’t expecting to dress up as much as I have since I’ve been gone.”
“Well, it’s nice on you. Really shows off your . . . pecs.” Winking at me, she leans over and picks up the first bowling bowl her eyes find, a neon-pink ball I have no doubt will fit her slender fingers perfectly. “Shall we?”
Like a whirlwind I’m trying to escape, she sweeps me up into her little world and starts pushing me toward our lanes, while her mention of my pecs swirls around in my head.
“Look who I found all lonely by the balls,” Rory announces to the group, acting like she’s known my friends forever. When they greet her with hugs, and I see how easily she fits in with them, I realize that ignoring Rory is going to be much harder than I expected.
“Rory, Joey, and Colby, you’re all on lane one,” Hardie calls out. “Pitchers of beer are on their way, and Stryder ordered nachos for the group. Let’s get our bowl on.”
Knowing I have no escape from this situation, I plop my bland-as-fuck ball into the bowling ball return and take a seat on the end closest to the exit. This is going to be a long fucking night.
Chapter Nine
RORY
If it weren’t for his lingering gaze, the way he quickly flicks his eyes away when I catch him staring and bites his bottom lip when I bend over to pick up my ball,orthe way he grunts when I take a seat next to him, I would have given up an hour ago on this man. But there is an attraction between us, a pull that he’s undeniably trying to ignore, and to hell if I’m going to let him win.
Call me crazy, but there’s a little part of me that believes I met Colby at that party Tuesday night for a reason, like our interaction was meant to be. Like I’m supposed to help him through his journey. His discouraging attitude and closed-off exterior is not going to stop me. What I hope he’s realizing is that I’m incredibly persistent, especially because I detect interest in those dark eyes of his.
It’s there.
Hewantsmore of me. Every fresh intake of breath he takes when I’m near. The way he tries to act like he’s not checking me out when, in fact, he’s constantly eye-fucking me, looking me up and down with those menacing eyes. Yes, I’ve noticed.
“Nacho?” I ask, sitting next to him like I’ve been doing after every turn I take. I hold up my plate to him but he shakes his head. “Your loss, the cheese is so on point.” I crunch down on my chip and take in his bouncing knee. “Nervous you’re going to lose?” I nod toward his leg that he stops bouncing immediately.
“No.”
I pop my last nacho in my mouth and set my plate down behind me, brushing off my hands. “I see that we’re back to one-word answers. It’s such a shame because I really feel like we got somewhere last time we spoke.”
“Last time we spoke, I told you to leave me alone.”
I poke his rock-solid shoulder, the muscle bending my finger back. “Ha, got you to talk a little more with that one. See, you can say more than just one-word sentences.”
He doesn’t reply with a comment. Shock alert. Wanting to break through his icy exterior, I say, “How about this, instead of me bugging you, I leave you alone.”
