I set my phone down on the bathroom counter with more force than necessary. The screen goes dark, and I stare at my reflection in the mirror.My hair is still damp, tangled. My face is flushed, whether from the hot shower or the argument, I'm not sure.But he agreed. Finally.It took way too much effort to get him there.I take a breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm the racing of my heart.It doesn't work.I open the bathroom door, the cooler air from the apartment hits my heated skin, and I go and get dressed.
Collette's on the couch, two glasses of deep red wine already poured on the coffee table. She looks up when I emerge, takes one look at my face, and pats the cushion beside her.
"Are you okay?"
I drop onto the couch with a heavy sigh, the soft cushions enveloping me.
"Emmett just messaged me."
She hands me a glass, the wine almost black in the dim lighting.
"Emmett?"
I take a long sip and let the wine burn down my throat. It's good. Rich and smooth.
"Coach benched him for the next game, and he's pissed."
Collette's eyebrows shoot up. "You gave him your number?"
I shake my head. "No. Felix gave it to him." I take another drink. Bigger this time. "I've just been arguing over text about why he needs to rest his shoulder. All the things that I told him face-to-face."
"And?"
"And he finally got it through his thick skull that I was right." I lean my head back against the couch. "But only after I basically had to spell out that if he tears it completely, he'll be watching from the couch while his team takes home the cup without him."
"So, you won." She chuckles
"It doesn't feel like winning." I sigh. "It feels like I had to drag him kicking and screaming to common sense. He fought me every step of the way."
Collette sips her wine, watching me over the rim of her glass. "Is this some kind of foreplay with you two?"
Heat floods my face. "What? No."
"Really? Because from where I'm sitting, it sounds like sexual tension disguised as a medical dispute."
"It's not. He's being reckless with his health. That's it."
"Uh-huh." Collette's tone is absolutely dripping with disbelief. "And that's why you're sitting here, all flushed and worked up. After spending time texting him."
"I'm flushed from the hot shower," I argue.
Collette just gives me a side eye, not believing me.
Damn her. I take another gulp of wine, avoiding her eyes. "He's stubborn. It's frustrating."
"You've dealt with stubborn athletes before."
My chest tightens. "This is different."
"Why?" she pushes.
Because two days ago, he had his fingers inside me, and I came apart on his couch. Because every time I close my eyes, I see him on that treatment table. All hard muscle and defiantgreen eyes. And I want to strangle him and kiss him in equal measure.
"Because he's our brothers' teammate." That sounds better.
This makes Collette laugh. "That's a good one. You can lie to yourself all you want. But don't lie to me." Her voice is gentle but firm. "I know what happened between you two. I was there, remember? When you came home from his apartment looking thoroughly ... disheveled."
My face burns hotter. "That was a mistake."
