Chapter Twenty-One
MILLER
I gripped the necklace in my fist and walked toward the locker rooms. I knew Sanchez was already there. His car was in the parking lot right along with Em’s.
After last night, I didn’t know what to think. But I did know that I couldn’t go on like this, constantly lusting after her, breaking rules of friendship and every other guy code out there just because I was still in love with her.
And that was the part that killed me.
It twisted inside my chest until I wanted to scream.
She never left me.
I believed her.
Which meant, had I just tried harder, had I not let my grief and anger overtake common sense, we would have been more than friends.
More than these strangers who used to hang out on the weekends and binge watch movies until four a.m.
We used to fall asleep under the stars; she’d shiver in my arms and promise me we’d be friends forever. It was where our friendship necklaces came in. I’d bought them as a joke.
But the minute I clasped the chain around her neck, she’d burst into tears and thrown her arms around me, squeezing my body so tight it hurt to breathe. I knew in that moment that our friendship wasn’t normal. The bond we felt for each other was extraordinary.
I’d sworn to never take it off.
And besides for games, I didn’t.
The night she left me, I’d thrown it in my dresser and yelled.
But I’d never had the heart to throw it away.
A few strides later, I was in the noisy locker room, the smell of equipment and Icy Hot filling my nostrils as I made my way down the hall.
Sanchez had his helmet in his right hand and was leaning against the wall, talking to Emerson, but not touching her.
Touching would definitely get him a talking-to by Coach.
I’d already started to notice the practices getting more intense, and the last thing any of us needed was a distraction. I’d expected the coaching staff to say something about us partying with the cheerleaders, but they really had turned a blind eye.
I guess that was what happened when you earned two championship rings in the past three years.
You got away with all kinds of shit as long as you won.
“My man!” Sanchez nodded toward me. “Did my girl tell you she pleasures herself in the shower?”
Emerson’s face flushed bright red. “You ass! I do not!” She smacked him in the chest.
Sanchez’s laugh was infectious. “Then why else were you in there last night for over a half hour? Damn woman. Wouldn’t even let me join you.”
I tried to keep my smile in place.
I’d been texting her.
Shit, I needed to stop.
But even as my brain logically explained in vivid detail all the reasons it was a bad idea to stay friends with her, to keep my distance, my heart freaking jumped for joy when I saw her.
Damn it.
“Seems like you still ended the night on a good note, Sanchez.” I fought like hell to keep smiling. “You did end up with the girl, no?”
“This is why I keep you around. You’re smart.” Sanchez winked at Em and gave me a nod of approval.
“Sanchez!” Coach yelled. “Get your ass over here. Don’t make me ask you twice.”
“This would be three times, Coach.” Sanchez grinned. “Not that I was counting.”
“Now!”
“Movie night.” He stole a kiss from her lips—my lips—and then glanced over his shoulder. “You should come too. It may help keep my manhood intact since I’m letting her pick.”
It wasn’t my place to tell him she hated romantic comedies and favored action, so I simply shrugged and said, “Yeah, maybe.”
His back was to me and Em while he chatted with Coach.
Em’s blue eyes snapped to mine.
They were bright.
But a bit bloodshot.
She’d been crying last night.
I’d bet money on it.
“You gonna make it?” I whispered.
Her eyes widened briefly before she blinked and nodded, unfolding her arms and letting them hang at her sides. “Yup.”
“Good.” We locked eyes, and then I was reaching for her hand. I took a step toward her, grabbed that hand and hid it behind her back, then placed my necklace against her palm. “I think you owe me cookies.”
“You really kept it.” Our hands pressed against each other so intensely that I felt the imprint of the heart on my palm—the sting of the edges of the metal digging into my skin.
Just like that, and things shifted back into a place I never imagined when I got traded.
Her breathing went from calm to ragged as she backed up against her hand until her ass was touching her hand, and her other hand was touching my thigh. If anyone was watching, it would look like we were simply having a conversation.
But my body was on fire.
“I guess I do.”
“I like chocolate chip,” I whispered.
“I remember.” She sighed.
I released her hand. “Have a good practice.” I felt the loss so violently that I had to flex and reflex my fingers.
Her eyes searched mine. “Friends, right?”
“Friends,” I lied.
She knew it.
I knew it.
“Yo, Miller!” Sanchez called for me. I was already a safe distance from his girl, but it didn’t matter if I was a foot away from her or five hundred miles. I felt her.
And maybe that was the problem.
I would always feel her.
Even when I’d thought she’d rejected me, I’d felt her every breath, every heartbeat, and let it fuel the hate I had for her.
But now? Now she was so close and still not mine.
“Whatever that expression means.” Sanchez glared. “Leave it on the field, got me?”
“Always,” I barked, shoving on my helmet and running after him.
I never knew that I’d become the type of man who wouldn’t just lie to my best friend, but also to my teammates, and worse of all, to myself.
Lust was an ugly, terrible, unbeatable thing.
And I was drowning in it.