I needed todosomething, anything, to extinguish this fire coursing through me. But nothing around me felt like it could help, like it could distract me from what was building inside me.
Before I knew what was happening, my feet were moving toward the shower room. I stopped outside the stall where water sprayed relentlessly under the curtain. I raised my hand,reaching for the fabric, but before I could pull it back, a strong arm shot out and yanked me inside.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
TEDDY
She escaped.
After just one kiss.
Buthell—what a kiss.
Her hands had drifted over my chest, fingertips brushing across the skin as if she were memorizing every inch of me. My fingers had gripped her waist, sliding up under her drenched shirt to find the smooth warmth of her back. She’d let out these soft, breathy gasps as my lips moved to her neck. I’d wanted to rip that shirt off, see her bare before me, but she stopped me—looked at me with something I couldn’t decipher—and then she bolted.
Fuck.
I leaned my head against the wall of the shower, breathing in ragged gasps. The scorching spray hit my spine, but it did nothing to temper the heat that surged beneath my skin. Reaching behind me, I twisted the handle, waiting for the water to cool, the sensation almost painful as it hit me. I winced but didn’t turn it warm again.
Every part of me started to ease, to calm. And I meaneverypart.
When I finally dragged myself back to the locker room and changed, she was gone. Of course. I should’ve known she wouldn’t stick around. She couldn’t keep running from this, from us. I’d given up on the idea that I just needed to get her out of my system.
That wasn’t going to happen.
I grabbed my bag and ignored Sullivan calling my name, not giving a damn what he had to say. I had to get out of there.
The staff lot was dark when I stepped outside. One streetlight flickered overhead, another was completely out. But then, I saw her—a shadow at the edge of the lot, pushing her bike toward the street.
It didn’t take me long to fire up the car and speed toward her. By the time she’d cleared the parking lot, I caught up and rolled down the window. “Get in, Frankie.”
She didn’t even glance my way.
I leaned closer, slowing beside her. “Coach.”
That made her stop. She turned, and when she looked at me, I saw it. The exhaustion, the rawness of what we’d just shared. Her hair, still damp from the shower, was coming undone from the braid I’d tangled my hands in. She looked wrecked, and not in the way I wanted. But damn, she still lookedperfectlyfucked.
And I knew she wasn’t.
“Go home, Valentine,” she said, her voice a mix of frustration and something softer that I couldn’t quite place.
She started walking again, pushing a new bike at her side, but I wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.
I parked the car by the side of the road, making sure there was no one behind me. My feet hit the pavement before I even thought about it, and I moved around the hood of the car to catch up with her.
“Frankie,” I said.
She kept walking.
I wasn’t about to let her get away again.
She stepped back, her body tense as if the distance between us wasn’t enough.
My brow furrowed, my heart aching at the look in her eyes when the streetlamp caught her face. “Are you afraid of me?”
She didn’t answer, and that silence settled between us like a weight I couldn’t shake.
“Frankie.” Not wanting to make her feel cornered, I didn’t move a step closer. “You know I’d never…” The thought of her fearing me, of being the one to make her feel that way, shattered something deep inside me.
