Page 42 of The No Try Zone
“How is it I’ve known you for four hours, but I’m utterly transfixed by you?”
I flutter my eyelashes and grin, lifting the drink in answer.
“No,” he says, his voice soft and serious. “It’s not the drinks. It’s just you.”
My stomach twists as I suck in a breath.
The action catches his attention, and his brows furrow. “Are you okay?”
Before I can answer, Ollie pulls up, grinning as he looks between the two of us. “I don’t know what had the two of you laughing so hard, but can I just tell you how happy it makes me to see you like this?” He places a hand over his heart. “Seriously.”
The knot in my stomach twists even harder, only this time I know exactly what this feeling is. Regret. Denial. Foreboding.Wrong.
But a stronger emotion threatens to overtake all of it. And so help me, I’m not sure how much longer I can hold it off.
Chapter15
Sam
I’M FINISHING UP some paperwork before calling it a night when I hear the door to the workout room open. Which is nothing new. Plenty of players and staff use the facilities after hours; we have an always-open policy and alotof security cameras, so I don’t think anything about it.
That is, until I clock the cadence of the person’s steps. They’re injured. It’s easy enough to tell: the rhythm isn’t steady, and one foot lands much heavier than the other. Guess my night isn’t over.
Pushing back the chair, I rise from the desk and make my way out of the PT rooms and into the larger facility, then stop short. “Colin?”
He’s facing me, gripping onto a racked yoke bar like his life depends on it. Knuckles white, jaw clenched. When his eyes meet mine, they’re filled with pain and reticence – a look I know well.
“How’d you hurt yourself?” I ask.
He looks away. “I’m fine,” he grits out.
I laugh, moving closer to him. “No, you’re not. Whatever you are, it’s not ‘fine.’ What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“Yeah, that’s a lie,” I tell him, closing the distance. “As much as I wish I didn’t, I know your expressions. And this one,” I wave my hand at his face, “is screaming ‘I’m in pain but I don’t want anyone to know.’”
A flicker of something flashes in his eyes. “You know my expressions, Nash?”
My belly warms at the use of the last name. I’ve always associated it with affection and camaraderie, and despite everything between us, I can’t fight the smile. “Shut up and tell me what’s wrong.”
He sighs. “It’s my hip.”
I cross my arms and nod, letting my gaze travel over him shamelessly. “Your right one, yes?”
“Yeah.”
He’s in track pants, something I’ve never seen him in. He’s so committed to the khakis that I was beginning to think it was all he owned. Besides those slutty running shorts of his, that is.
I bite my lip at the memory. After my brother had practically swooned at the visual of his coach and sister being cordial to each other, we’d enjoyed a nice run in the park, circling the pond a few times before taking a short trail that led into whatever passed for “forest” in Atlanta. Colin had pushed Ollie for the last mile, and I held back solely so that I could ogle my husband.
The view did not disappoint.
“Was it that last mile that did it yesterday?” I tease, only half kidding.
He levels me with a look that I’m certain he thinks is intimidating. It’s not. It’s unfairly hot, actually. Not that I’ll tell him that. “No.”
“Then what made it flare up?”
