Page 73 of Rival Season
“Maybe I’m alittleinto barbarians,” she murmurs against my lips as she tangles her hands in my hair and runs her tongue against mine. She tastes cool and sweet and perfect. A groan reverberates in my chest as I cup my hand around the back of her neck and tilt her head at the perfect angle to take our kiss deeper.
We only break apart when my stomach rumbles once more.
“I better feed you,” she says with a giggle, looking even more delicious than the acai bowls with her flushed cheeks and swollen lips.
“Let me help.” I pick up the cutting board and move around her to bring it to the sink where I scrub it clean. Once I’m done, I grab the knife and wash that, too.
She watches me with an awestruck expression, like I’ve just done something incredible instead of simply washing a couple of dishes.
“Thank you,” she says as she takes a couple of spoons out of a drawer and carries them to the dining table.
“For what?” I ask as I finish washing the last dish and set it in the drying rack. I grab the acai bowls that she expertly arranged and follow her to the table.
“For helping,” she says.
“Why wouldn’t I help? You made breakfast, the least I can do is clean up. It’s called teamwork.” I wink at her. “And we’re a good team.”
I’m shocked when Hazel’s eyes fill with tears. She furiously blinks them away, taking off her glasses to swipe at her face.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” I take two steps until I’m right in front of her, then gently take her hands in mine, dragging them away from her face so I can look her in the eye. “What did I say?”
“Nothing!” Hazel exclaims hurriedly.
“You’re crying. It’s obviously not nothing.” I look down at her. “Tell me what I did so I can fix it.”
Hazel bites down on her cheek, shaking her head and looking away. Then, eventually, she says, “You’re just so…nice.”
“You’re crying because I’m nice?” I ask with a laugh.
“Yes!”
“I’m confused,” I tell her, still chuckling.
She swallows, and when her eyes meet mine again, the tears are gone, but her expression is blank. “So am I,” she says softly.
My heart stutters, a glimmer of something that feels like hope rushes through me—has she also been wondering what happens after Chadwick moves out and ourfakedating agreement is fulfilled? Could she possibly be hoping for…more?
“Hazel, I—” I start, unsure what I’m about to say, but before I can say anything, the door to the apartment flies open, and Chad-dick strides in, his timing as terrible as always.
“Hazel, I have good news!” he bellows as he enters the apartment and displeasure gathers in my stomach. I hate that he lives here and has this kind of access to her.
Hazel quickly disentangles her hands from mine and shoves her glasses back on, and my question—whatever it was going to be—shrivels and dies on my tongue as Chadwick walks towards us.
“What is it?” Hazel asks in a bored tone.
She doesn’t look, or sound, happy to see him, which makes me relax—a little. But she also didn’t exactly look happy before he burst in here and ruined the moment for me to ask her about us—about what we are, and what we could possibly be.
“Ta-da!” Chadwick comes to a stop and makes stupid jazz hands in the direction of his leg, and for the first time since he burst in here, I smile. Because he’s wearing a pair of sneakers, no boot in sight. Which means he must almost be healed up and ready to move his sorry ass back to Sacramento.
“I thought you had another week with the boot?” Hazel asks, and I swallow at the realization of what this might mean.
“I did, but my PT said my body is in such peak condition, I healed up early,” Chadwick preens, and I refrain from rolling my eyes.
“Nice,” Hazel says, her tone a little brighter. “That means you’ll be moving out soon, right?”
Chadwick laughs and shoots her a patronizing glance, like her sassing him is adorable—which, in turn, makes my hackles rise. “It does. But I’ll still have check-ups to attend, so I’ll be coming back to visit often.” He winks at her. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, babe.”
I know he’s putting on a show for my benefit, trying to wind me up. Usually, I wouldn’t rise to his bait, but that strange, teary interaction I just had with Hazel—coupled with the realization that our agreement, which I was already dreading the end of, is about to finish early—has my nerves tightly wound.
