“What do you mean?”
For a minute, panic flashes across his eyes, and for a minute, I think he’s going to be honest with me and himself. Then he simply takes a small step away from me. “I just… I can’t do this. Not with you.”
“Can’t do what?”
“Maybe not with anyone,” he says grimly, putting back on his coat of ice to keep the world out.
I want to reach for him, pull him back, talk it out, but I can tell that even if I brought him back now, he would still be gone from me.
“Go to bed,” he says gruffly. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Fine,” I say. “Tomorrow.”
He turns on his heel and storms off. I slam my door behind him and stomp to my bed, flopping onto the mattress, exhausted. It isn’t raining anymore, at least.
Still, through the haze of anger, exhaustion, and confusion, as the night’s events flash through my mind, a thought surfaces that I hadn’t considered before. One I can’t ignore, despite wanting to.
He thought I was in trouble and he came for me. Surely that means something.
And what did he mean not with anyone?
I slip into fitful sleep and dream of a day when we were happy together. When I was just glad to be by his side. A beat-up porch on a rainy day. Two years ago…
We’ve just gotten back from a tournament, one we lost. It wasn’t A1pha’s fault. In fact, the most frustrating thing about being Alex’s teammate is having to let him down because you’re just more human than him. Alex never takes it out on us, never yells or gets angry, but as his friend, I can tell when it bothers him. It’s the way he gets quiet, goes out on the back porch to think. Just sits there alone.
Sure enough, as soon as we’re back at their place, the guys drag me inside to play some Smash, break out post-game snacks, and Alex sneaks away out the backdoor.
As soon as Ollie and Ethan get caught up in discussion about how the tournament went, I slip away and out the door. Alex is sitting on an old bench, long legs sprawled out, just watching the rain.
“You know, it won’t always be this way,” I say, walking over to stand beside him. “You’ll be a pro someday and not have to deal with all of this.” I sit down next to him, not too close, but not too far. Alex isn’t really a touchy-feely person.
The rain creates a drumbeat on the thin roof above us and the patio in front of us. There’s a worn-out basketball hoop in the middle, swaying in the wind. Ethan’s hoop.
“Deal with what?” he asks, not looking over at me, just gazing forward intently, as if the rain fascinates him.
“Losing,” I say quietly. “Because of us, you sometimes lose.”
He gives me a quizzical look, and I run my eyes down the planes of his face, the perfect oval of his forehead, the straight lines of his jaw, his strong chin. “If we lose, it’s my fault as well.”
“Hardly,” I say with a huff.
He laughs at that, a low, warm sound that vibrates within me. I love his laugh. “Well, at least I’m playing with my friends.”
“So you don’t think you’ll go pro, then?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” he says. “I’m not sure what the point would be.”
“You could make money,” I say. “And it’d be a waste of your talents if you didn’t.”
“Money’s not really a problem.”
I gaze at our surroundings. Dilapidated fence, old yard with bare spots. Not exactly the Ritz. “Because you’re going into computer engineering and will make a bazillion dollars?”
He shrugs. “Something like that. I don’t know.”
I narrow my eyes. “So what do you want to do with your life, then?”
“I’m not sure,” he says quietly. He blinks a couple times, his lashes almost as long as mine. If we had kids, they’d have brooms for eyelashes. He looks over at me for a moment, then quickly away. “I guess I’d like to settle down at some point,” he says, folding his arms and leaning back against the bench.
I flush because he may be unaware that he’s saying this to a girl, but I’m not. “That sounds good.”
“Yeah?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say. “Everyone should find someone who makes them happy.”
“Oh. Yeah.” He takes in a deep breath and then exhales.
The rain is getting heavier, but I don’t want to leave him out here alone. I gaze up at the clouds, hoping they don’t become the gray, hefty type that cause me to go running for cover. I better get to the point.
“You okay?” I ask. “You seem a little down.”
“It’s nothing,” he says.
“It doesn’t look like nothing.” I give his knee a light squeeze, noting the slight shock on his face. He’s not used to being touched a great deal.
He gives me an odd look. “What was that for?”
“Just comfort, I guess.”
He sighs and sits forward, resting his chin on his fist. Then he sits back and, awkwardly, gives my knee a squeeze too. “There’s one for you as well.”
My face breaks into a wide smile. “Thanks.”
“Sure,” he says, looking forward again. I glance at his neck and if I’m not mistaken, there’s a slight flush forming there. So A1pha can be embarrassed.
“So what’s got you down?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing big.”
“It doesn’t look that way to me.”
“You keep saying that.” He eyes me warily. “What do you mean?”
I sigh and rub my hands together because the damp air is getting cooler as the afternoon turns to evening. “I don’t know. This is going to sound funny.”
“Try me,” he says flatly.
“Well, it’s like… Sometimes you have this mask. I think it fools most people. I think you’re used to it fooling them, to the point that you’ve gotten complacent about it. But for some reason, it doesn’t fool me at all.”
“Oh?” It’s telling that he doesn’t deny there’s a mask. He’s just intrigued that I’ve noticed.
“Yeah. Because when I see it, I know something is wrong. You only need a mask to hide something.”
He turns to me, the expression on his face a mixture of amusement and discomfort. “So you have it all figured out, then?”
“I will when you tell me what’s wrong.”
“Fine,” he says, leaning back. “If I’m really honest, it does bug me to lose sometimes. Especially when I know we could win. But it also bothers me to take you to tournaments sometimes. The foul things people say. It makes me feel like we’re responsible, like we’re exposing you to it.”
My heart hammers against my chest. “That’s just part of gamer culture. It’s bad to lose; it’s worse to lose to a girl.”
“I hate it,” he says, gritting his teeth. “It makes me feel… out of control. I don’t know why. I have to come out here and cool off.”
“Aw, Alex. You do care,” I say playfully.
He turns to me with a surprised expression. His eyes are such a verdant green when they’re wide. “Of course I care. We’re friends.”
“I guess you’re just not as obvious as the other guys about it.”
“I’m not?”
“Well, you aren’t physical, like Ethan. Or emotional, like Ollie.”
“I’m a man,” he says. “Men don’t put everything out there like that.”
“Who told you that?” I ask, frowning.
“No one,” he says.
“Your dad?”
“Anyway, I do care about you,” he mutters. “I could just kill them when they say stuff like that.”
“No need,” I say, patting his knee as warmth flows through me at his protectiveness. He’s making it dang hard not to fall in love with him. And I know that would be a disaster because he hasn’t once shown interest in me. With his looks and abilities and brains, he can choose whomever he wants. He doesn’t need to just pick a nerdy gamer chick who happens to be on his team. And smitten with him.
A bright streak of light flas
hes across the sky in the distance, lighting everything around us by a fraction. I go silent as all the hairs on my body stand up simultaneously. Lightning is bad because it precedes thunder.
“Want to count?” he asks, not looking over. I breathe a sigh of relief. He hasn’t noticed my shame yet. Hasn’t noticed I’m scared of something so stupid.
“Count?” I grit out.
“You know, count the seconds between when we see the lightning and hear the thunder. Did you know the reason we see lightning first is because light travels faster than sou—”
A boom of thunder cuts him off, and I launch into him, digging my hands into his arm. For a moment, he just stares down at me, eyes wide. Then he looks out at the approaching storm and pulls his arm out of my grip so he can wrap it around me. He pulls me against him and circles me with his other arm. I try to hide my shock. It’s the last thing I expected from such a distant person, but his arms are huge and warm and able to encompass me in a way I haven’t felt since my dad left.
But it’s totally different because these are the arms of the guy I like. I sink against him, listening to the hammering of my heart. I know there’s always going to be something in me that reacts to him. That wants to follow him everywhere. That wants to make him laugh and smile. He rarely smiles, but when he does, it’s more beautiful than a rainbow shining through the clouds after a storm.
He looks down at me. “You okay?”
“Yes,” I say, holding on to his arms.
He grins slightly. “You don’t look okay.”
“Don’t use my words against me,” I grumble, too aware of his effect on me, too aware of his unawareness of it.
“Do you want to go inside?”
“No,” I snap.
He sighs and gives me a small squeeze. “Okay, then.”
“Don’t let go,” I command.
He laughs, and the warmth builds again. I want to make him laugh all the time. “I won’t let go,” he says, amusement plain in his voice. “I’ll stay right here with you until you aren’t scared anymore.”
I wish he could stay right here with me even when I’m not scared. I wish he could stay forever. “Thanks,” I say quietly.
“You’re welcome,” he says.
I wake from the dream to a knock on the door. It’s morning.
“Kira, you in there?” Alex’s voice. “Can I come in?”
Chapter 9
How can one man so insistently haunt my waking and sleeping hours? I yawn and stretch, still feeling hazy and half asleep. You’d think I’d be more preoccupied with my ex. He’s the real danger to me now. Yet, with Alex around, there’s a different kind of danger. To my heart.
I look out toward the window. The sun is threatening to break through the remaining clouds from last night’s storm. I can see its white outline moving across the sky. The trees in the yard are still damp and dripping, and the whole world outside seems to still be recovering, a gray pallor over everything.
I ignore Alex at the door. I need a moment to separate the past from the present. A part of me woke up happy, thinking we were still back there, that nothing had happened between us. But something did happen, last night before bed. My eyes widen as the memories flood forward like water over a dam.
Alex seeing me with Ethan. Alex pressing me against the door. Alex telling me I do something to him, something he doesn’t want. Something he can’t do.
Telling me we’d never work together.
I run my fingers lightly across my lips, trying to bring back the feel of it. I finally kissed him. I need to remember it. I sigh as the sensations come back, his hands pressed to mine, his tongue deep inside me, seeming to connect me to his very soul as our lips became one.
Suddenly, it’s hard to breathe again. I stare at the door. Is he still there? How long is he going to let me get away with sitting here fantasizing about him while he’s out there, just ten feet away.
Another knock. “Kira? Can I come in?” A loud sigh. “I really need to talk to you.”
“What for?” I call out to him. I wrap my hands around my knees, which are still under the covers.
“Kira, I… I want to apologize.”
“For?” I ask stubbornly.
“Will you just let me in?”
“Fine, come in,” I say because he’s at the end of his patience and I might as well let him say what he needs to say. But my heart is guarded.
The door slowly opens and I pull my hands down my face and over my neck, one last attempt at being as awake as possible.
He peeks his head in, light-blond hair catching the morning light that’s finally bursting through the clouds and into my room. His green eyes are relaxed and a soothing emerald color. His sharp features are softened by the way he bites his lip, looking adorable as he hesitates at the door. So unlike him to seem uncertain about anything. But maybe Alex Dumont hates apologies as much as the rest of us.
He takes a deep breath and walks in, pushing the door wide open, bringing yellow light from the hallway to mingle with the sun and brighten my room.
I pull my covers up around me because even though they saw me in my pajamas last night, it’s different being seen in the daytime. And I’m pretty sure I took off my bra at some point in the night. Not comfy to sleep in.
We eye each other hesitantly. He’s no longer the dark and dangerous (and deliciously shirtless) figure from last night. His hair is perfect, and he has on a soft navy pullover sweater with a half zipper in the front and a soft collar that frames his powerful neck perfectly.
He exhales slowly, not meeting my eyes. “I’m sorry for last night,” he says.
“Oh?” I ask, feigning innocence. “For what?”
“For… what we did.”
Boo. “Oh, no need. It was what I wanted, at the time.”
His eyes rise to mine. I notice a few light freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks. “But not now?”
“Does it matter?” I ask.
“No,” he says tersely. “But I’m sorry. I meant to protect you, but I got caught up in things. I went overboard. I was out of line.”
“I told you, you don’t need to apologize. I was trying to provoke you.”
“I know,” he says, expression pained. He rubs the back of his neck, looking a bit like a male model trying to look moody and reserved, rather than a real person trying to apologize. I laugh and mentally shake the image out of my head so I can focus.
“So it’s okay,” I say.
“No, I mean…” He pauses and looks away and then back. “I remembered last night. About the lightning. Kept me up all night.”
“The lightning? It stopped.”
“No, not the lightning. The fact that that’s why you were with Ethan. That’s why he was comforting you, distracting you, as you said at first. When I didn’t believe you…” He thumps his hand on the wall beside him. “I’m so stupid.”
“Stop it,” I say, sitting up further in bed in slight alarm at the anguish on his face. “It’s not a big deal.” I lean over my arms again, trying to hide the blush that’s rising in anticipation of my next words. “Also, I forgot to thank you last night.”
“For what?” He stops berating himself long enough to give me a confused glare.
“For saving me.”
“You didn’t need to be saved,” he says flatly.
“But you thought I did, and you came for me. That’s something, right?”
“I promised I’d protect you,” he says stiffly, folding his arms.
“And you did. So thank you,” I say, giving him a bright smile.
He seems affected by it for a moment, a micro-expression of surprise taking over his face before he covers it with a frown. “You’re welcome,” he says simply.
“So we’re good, then,” I reply.
“Also, I just wanted to let you know I’m giving you a week off. To do whatever you need.”
“Huh?”
“I mean, get moved in. Get settled.”
“Oh.”<
br />
“All I ask is that if you go out, you take me or one of the guys with you.”
“What?” I ask, trying to keep my eyes from bugging. “No way.”
“What?” he asks.
“Don’t get controlling again, Alex. I don’t need this.”
“I think you do,” he says, walking forward. Great, the tingles in my stomach start up again. “I think we both know Nate is out there waiting for an opportunity, if I know him at all.”
“I’m not going to promise you anything. But I’m not going to do something stupid.”
“Really? That’s all I get?”
“That’s all,” I say firmly. “You’ll have to trust me a little too.”
“Fine,” he says, resigning himself to the fact that I’m not a dog on a leash. “I’ll try.”
“Thanks. Now get out. I need to get changed.” And away from him for one freaking second so I can put myself together.
He gives me a drawn-out, sidelong glance before turning away. “Sure. Sorry for bothering you.” He strides out my bedroom door and out of sight.
I just sit there for a moment, staring at the empty hallway. Then I reach for my phone to text Lulu.
You up?
It beeps. Yup, what’s up?
Want to hang out today?
Sure. :) When?
As soon as you can.
Okay, be over in 10, she texts back.
I grin and roll out of bed and stretch. Ten minutes in Lulu time means I have at least twenty in actuality.
I grin and jump in the shower down the hall from my room. I hurry, using the shampoo and shower gel sitting on the side of the tub, and then get out quickly. Showers are time for thinking and I don’t need or want to think deep thoughts right now.
My dark, soft hair is finally squeaky clean. I throw it into a low pony and put on a touch of makeup to buoy me up and hopefully make it a little plainer to Alex what he’s missing. I slip into jeans that make my butt look good and turn in the mirror to check myself out. I’m glad that the weight I lost during the last stressful year didn’t affect my rather generous butt. I like my butt. I throw on a T-shirt with a game controller on it and grab a pair of tennis shoes that are worn in and comfortable.
Play Me: A1pha (Alpha) Part 1 Page 7
