Page 82 of The Striker
Swallowing hard, I turn back to Wyatt. Pretty sure he caught all of that.
“Um, hi.”
“Hey,” he says, raising his hand in a small wave.
We stand there in the parking lot, neither one of us saying anything else.
“Well, this isn’t awkward,” Adriana adds.
I glare at her. “Not helping,” I repeat.
Her lips twitch, and her eyes look out toward the field. “Incoming,” she offers, and I follow her gaze.
Gabriel spots us and starts cutting across the field. Panic grips me. “Shit,” I mutter under my breath. My stomach jumps into my throat.
“So, um, what’s up?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
Wyatt offers me a small grin, oblivious to my rising anxiety. “I just thought we should talk. I feel kinda shitty about how things ended on our date.”
“It’s fine,” I tell him, needing him to say his piece and go fast and far away. “I had a good time.”
“Yeah?” His expression brightens with hope.
Uh oh. That isn’t my intention, but I’m also not trying to be a bitch.
“Yeah,” I confirm. “I think it’s just too soon for me to do the whole dating thing, obviously.” I let out a self-deprecating laugh, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.
His expression softens, and I see a look of pity on his face. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t know about that. If I did, I never?—”
“Time’s up,” Adriana interjects.
“Is there a problem?” The sound of Gabriel’s gravelly voice sends shivers racing down my spine.
Wyatt’s head snaps toward him, and I don’t need to look over my shoulder to know Gabriel is standing right behind me. I can feel the heat radiating from him, seeping into my back.
“Hey man, can we have a minute?” Wyatt asks, unaware of the situation he’s stumbled into.
With a grimace, I wait for Gabriel's reaction. He doesn’t disappoint.
“No, man. You can’t. So why don’t you—” He steps forward but I reach out, my fingers latching onto his hand.
“Gabriel,” I whisper, shaking my head. “Just a minute?”
His jaw clenches. “No.”
So much for that. Pursing my lips, I try not to get angry. Gabriel’s just looking out for me. He’s being overprotective right now, but I know it comes from a good place.
Unsure of what to do, I look at Adriana, but she shrugs. “Don’t look at me. I’ve never been able to get Gabe to listen.”
Wonderful.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, sighing heavily.
“I appreciate you coming to talk to me,” I tell Wyatt, giving him my full attention. “But we’re good. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Is he—” Wyatt’s eyes dart between us.
“A friend,” I assure him, answering his unspoken question. “A very protective, sometimes hot-headedfriend.” I emphasize the last word, and Gabriel growls behind me.
