And he does it in such an intimate way that I’m surprised the world hasn’t caught on yet.
That he’s more than my coach.
That he’s my Arrow.
I hug the books even tighter to my chest and shift on my feet.
“Done what?” he finally asks, lifting his eyes.
“Saved me like that.”
“And why’s that?”
“B-because they’ll think you’re giving me special treatment. Since I lived with you and all.”
The tight set of his jaw says that he doesn’t like that. “Has someone said something to you about that?”
I shake my head. “That’s not the point.”
“This isn’t the first time this has happened to you, is it?” he concludes in a low tone, the silver chain around his neck glinting dangerously as he folds his arms across his chest.
I try not to look at the grooves of his sides that he’s exposed by that movement. “It doesn’t matter. It’s –”
“Next time someone gives you trouble, you come to me,” he orders.
“What?”
“I will take care of it.”
His low-spoken command sends a rush of warmth through my body. A rush of goosebumps and thundering heartbeats.
He’ll take care of me like he did just now.
But the thing is, I don’t deserve his help.
I tried to make advances on him when I promised myself that I wouldn’t. When I know he doesn’t need those things since he’s still coming out of the breakup.
Besides I’m not a rat.
So I tamp down all my shivers, take a deep breath and say, “You don’t have to. I can handle it myself.”
I stop when he unfolds his arms, and completely ignoring what I just said, states in the most professional voice ever, “And I’d like to see you in my office, please. After you’re done with your dinner.”
I look to the side, confused. “What?”
“I have something that I’d like to discuss with you.”
“But –”
“And I’ve decided that you’re done avoiding me now.” Then he does the most coach-ly thing ever. He taps at his big leather-strapped wristwatch with his finger and tips his chin to get me moving. “See you in an hour.”
With that, he walks away, leaving me all shocked.
Apparently, he can still shock me because I didn’t think he would take matters into his own hands.
About the fact that I’ve been ignoring him.
I have actually.
