Page 20 of Ice Cold Chemistry
“Then why the hell are you telling me this?” I scowl at him, growing agitated.
He’s quiet for a second. Then he says, “Because she’s Tori’s best friend. And she’s a good person who doesn’t deserve what’s happening to her. And because you’re one of the only guys on this team who hasn’t been part of the problem.”
“That doesn’t mean I want to be part of the solution.”
“No,” he agrees. “It doesn’t.”
He claps me on the shoulder—I hate when people do that, I don’t do well with physical touch—and walks away, leaving me standing in the hallway like an idiot.
I don’t think about it.
I shower, change, and grab my bag. I don’t think about Winnie or Zayden’s stupid idea or any of it. I think about food. I’m starving. There’s a sandwich place on the way home that does a meatball sub the size of my forearm, and that’s exactly what I need right now.
I’m almost to the exit when I hear it.
Laughter. The wrong kind.
I slow down, glancing toward the training room.
Winnie is standing near the door, tablet in hand, clearly trying to leave. Two of the younger guys—rookies whose names I can never remember—are blocking her path. They’re not being aggressive, exactly. Just… persistent.
“Come on, one selfie,” one of them says. “For my Instagram. My followers would love you.”
“I don’t think that’s appropriate,” Winnie replies. Her voice is calm, but I can see the tension in her shoulders.
“It’s just a picture. What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is I’m trying to do my job, and you’re making it difficult.”
The other rookie laughs. “She’s feisty. I like that.”
“I’m not feisty. I’m professional. There’s a difference.”
“Same thing.”
“It’s really not.”
I watch her try to step around them. One of them shifts, blocking her again. Not menacing—just oblivious. Just two guys who think they’re being charming and have no idea how exhaustingthey are.
Winnie’s expression flickers. Just for a second. But I catch it.
She’s tired. Not just annoyed—she’s tired of their bullshit.
I know that tired. I’ve felt that tired.
She finally manages to slip past them, walking quickly toward the exit. She doesn’t see me standing here. Doesn’t know anyone witnessed that.
Something in my chest twists in a way I don’t like.
This is stupid.
I push through the exit doors, heading for my truck.
This is not my problem.
I unlock the door and toss my bag in the back.
I don’t even like her.
