"He's fucking with me," I growl.
Scout tilts her head. "How so?"
"I was serious about yoga," Thorne assures her. "He's just grumpy because he doesn't want me flirting with you."
"Oh! I didn't, um..." Scout's eyes widen. She stares at anything but me. "I'm not sure how you came up with that, Thorne. Silas doesn't care who I talk to."
I'm not allowed to care. But I do.
"Is she right, buddy?" Thorne grins. "You don't mind if I try to take Scout home?"
"Call me buddy again." I lean forward. "I don't care that you're captain. I'll still wrap you around a telephone pole."
Thorne's grin widens. "See? He does care. So, Scout. How about we practice some down dog at my place?"
Juliet comes over just in time to hear that. Anger flashes across her face.
"You two are being inappropriate with Scout. She's a team employee." She gives Thorne a withering stare and grabs my hand. "You're already in trouble. I suggest you go home."
"Can no one take a joke?" Thorne mutters.
I point a finger at him. "You're making things worse."
"Or am I helping?" Thorne replies. "Only time will tell."
I grind my molars until my jaw aches. I can't tell Thorne to shut the hell up. And it's not like I'm allowed to tell Scout not to glow like that for anyone else.
What would I even say? She's not mine. She's living inmy condo temporarily because the coaches mandated it. That's all.
So I take the coward's way out.
"Enough socializing," I mutter, pushing my chair back. The legs scrape against the floor. "I'm going to bed."
I know what will happen. Scout will follow. She always does. It's built into her DNA or something, this need to take care of people who don't deserve it. I definitely don't deserve it, but I'm also technically under her care. If I have to, I will use that to my advantage.
Predictably, Scout follows.
"Silas, wait!" she calls out, gathering her jacket. "I'll come with you. You still need to be monitored."
Thorne sits back, looking pleased with himself. Hunter shoots me a look that says he knows exactly what I'm doing. He's right, but I don't fucking care. I ignore him and head for the exit.
The elevator ride up to my condo's quiet. Scout fidgets with her phone. I keep my eyes on the ground and try not to think about how good she smells even after hours at a bar. Lavender and eucalyptus cutting through stale beer.
I can't help but picture me sliding my hand into her dark blonde curls and leaning down, pressing my nose to her crown. Inhaling more of her scent.
Once we’re back in the condo, she hovers like I’m made of glass. "Do you want food? I could make something. Or heat? Ice for your shoulder?"
As if on cue, my shoulder throbs. I rub it, but I can't reach the healing incision or the aching knots bunched up just below my right shoulder blade.
Scout stops in front of me, her lips puckering. "Silas, let me help you. Please? I can heat up a wrap, or massage your shoulder..."
"Massage," I bite out before I can stop myself.
She lights up. "Come sit on the couch."
She touches my left arm, guiding me into the living room, moving around behind me as I sit down. I stiffen when her hands land on my shoulders. God, her touch is too warm, her hands moving carefully against my skin. As though she thinks I might break if she presses too hard.
"You can do it harder than that."
