“What?” he asks.
I shake my head and keep my thoughts to myself.
But he continues to stare at me like he’s content to wait all night for me to answer.
“You can handle whatever you want to handle. People make up all sorts of excuses when they aren’t interested instead of just saying so.”
“You think I’m making up excuses?”
“Definitely.”
Everyone knows it’s a classic blow-off answer.
He manages to look amused and offended at the same time.
I roll my eyes but can’t help pointing out the hypocrisy of his statement. “If—I don’t know—some model with big boobs and perfect legs walked in, you’d have a different answer.”
“No,” he says adamantly.
“No?”
“I’m not making up excuses, and it doesn’t matter what she looks like, I don’t have any interest in dating or hooking up.”
The phrase “hooking up” coming out of Vaughn’s mouth makes my skin flush. An embarrassing image of him doing just that makes it so I can’t look at him.What the hell, Lacey?
He shifts so one leg angles toward me. “I’m failing algebra and benched from the team. All my attention has to go to that.”
“Mm-hmm. Sure.” I clear my throat.
“I’m serious.”
“If you say so.” I smile as sweetly as I can and hope my face isn’t as red as it feels.
We fall quiet, and I write out Rowan’s name and number in glue, then douse glitter on top. Shaking it off onto another paper, I hold up the final product.
“I’m not a good boyfriend,” he says.
I guess I’m not surprised he isn’t impressed with my cute, glittery sign. I set it on the floor with the others.
“You could be if you wanted. You’re choosing other things instead, and that’s fine, but at least be honest about it.”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. I think that might be as hopeless as algebra.”
His response pulls an anxious laugh from me. What do I care if he’s a good boyfriend or not? It isn’t like I’m trying to date him.
His mouth quirks up at the corners too. He’s really handsome when he smiles. It makes all his features softer, and he has this great chin dimple that appears. I catch myself staring at him and look back to the locker signs in front of me. Of course the next one is Vaughn’s.
His gaze falls to it as well. “You don’t need to decorate my locker.”
“You’re a part of the team.” Even the coaches and team manager get signs. There’s no way I’m leaving out the captain.
“Yeah, the water boy,” he mumbles.
“It’s one game. You’ll be back.”
He nods almost like he’s convincing himself it’s true.
“Thank you,” he says, catching me off guard. While I’m still silent, he adds, “I know you don’t like me, and you think the way I treated Claire was awful. You’re not wrong. I told you I’m not good at being a boyfriend, but I know I fucked that up.”
