I laughed, snorting at the end.
“Yeah, I am stubborn. But, you’re bossy, so that's worse.” I stood. The ice had helped a bit, and I hoped I didn't wince. “What's on the agenda for the afternoon?”
“Go home, Grace.” He stood, his expression softer.
My eyes stung. I hated pity. I hated the look people gave me when they heard about my childhood, and I refused to deal with it here. “No. Do not send me home, please.” I shook my head, meeting his intense stare. “I’m not sick. I can work. I want to be here.”
He ran his hand over his hair, the brown shaggy hair that made him look good regardless of how it was styled. He bit down on the inside of his lips, then exhaled. “Fine. Change of plans.”
“What are we doing?” I asked, hope sprouting in my chest. “Something new?”
“Yes. You're stubborn, but I can appreciate that. I am, too. We’ll do something that keeps you off your feet.”
“Don't baby me,” I snapped at him. “I'm fine. I don't need your pity.”
“Pity? You think I'm pitying you? You stubborn, naive girl.” He shook his head, scoffing at my statement. “I don't pity you. Not. At. All,” he said between clenched teeth. He strode off, waiting for me to follow him.
“Where are we going?” I asked, my voice on the verge of hysteria. Of course, he didn't answer but walked faster. Damn him. “Anderson, wait up.”
He turned around, fire in his eyes. Then, the fire went out. His face transformed as he saw me hobbling after him.
Yes, my knee throbbed all crazy types of pain, but I wouldn't give up. Not ever. I caught up to him, and his cheek twitched again. It must be an annoyance meter. “Thank you for waiting. I'm sorry I can't walk as fast as I normally do today.”
“Sure,” he said, in a voice so kind I gasped, my mouth open in shock. He shrugged it off, gently putting his hand on my shoulder. “This way.”
My stomach did not swoop at the contact. Nope. Or the way he kept it on there as we walked to a golf cart. Not. At. All. “Golf cart?”
“Yup. Technically, the players are done for today. There is a scrimmage tomorrow, the final one, so we actually could leave for the day. But, I doubt you believe me.” He started the golf cart, giving me a sly smile. “I got creative. We're going to do a tour of all the sport facilities, see their training rooms, and you can ask any question you want.”
“Any question?” My brows rose.
“Any.”
“You won't bite my head off or make me feel stupid?” I asked, not willing to meet his eyes.
He released an exaggerated breath, his eyes burning into my profile.
“Grace.” That slow, rough voice coaxed me to look at him. “I won't bite your head off. And, I won't make you feel stupid.”
“Then, coolio.” Yup. I added the use of the word coolio to the list of stupid things I had done in front of Brock Anderson.
He smiled, his eyes warming at me for a second before driving away. We drove past the tennis court and the campus graveyard, which freaked me out. Did people like their college so much they wanted to be buried there? Why? Who’d want that?
“What's that face for?” he asked, cruising down the sidewalk. I didn't like how he took his eyes off the sidewalk, but I was busted. There wasn't another human in sight where we were. The southwest part of campus was empty.
“Would you ever want to be buried in the school’s graveyard? I don't get it. Are they all alumni? What if one parent was, the other wasn't? Are they allowed in?” I asked, not really expecting an answer.
“You know, I've never thought about that.” He hummed, gazing at the cemetery. “Those are good questions. But, no, I wouldn't want to be put there.”
“Me neither.” I thought about my mom’s funeral, the lowering of the casket to the ground. Nope. I hated the ground, the tombstone, all of it. I hadn't been back. I had enough memories of her in my head and heart. My mom was religious, but I wasn't. I went through the process for her, not for me. “Have you ever lost someone, Anderson?”
“Call me Brock. It's time.” His reply wasn’t happy or angry. Just another command.
I rolled my eyes, but then he added, quietly, “Whenever you say Anderson, I automatically hear Asshole in front of it now.”
I laughed, somehow the sad mood leaving again. Man, today was an emotional one for me. I blamed the lack of sleep. “Okay,Brock.”
“You said it like my name is poison.”
