FLIP
Tally races up the steps to her apartment building. Running away from me the same way I ran from her on New Year’s. I can’t keep doing this.
All week I’ve been off. Struggling to sleep, to eat, to not think about how good it felt to spend time with her at the lodge. To not fixate on how close I’d been to finding out how soft her pretty lips are. I miss our text conversations over books, her laugh, the way her face lights up when she’s excited about something. I missher.
I can’t see her as Coach’s Off-Limits Daughter anymore. Not after New Year’s. I was territorial, possessive, I wanted her all to myself.
Iwanther all to myself.
My craving for her,be more to her, is almost unbearable.
I don’t want to shut her out or shut her down. Not again. Seeing her today settled me for the first time since New Year’s. I can’t let her run away.
Everything I’ve been afraid of—messing with our friend group, the wrath of my teammates, her dad murdering me—all of it pales in comparison to the pervasive fucking ache that’s rootedin my chest. And the idea of someone else stepping in to claim her heart, I can’t let it happen. I won’t. Whatever shitstorm I bring on, I’ll weather it. She’s more than worth the risk. And it’s about time I showed her.
I park in the closest public lot and follow someone into her building. I helped move Tally into this apartment, along with the rest of the Terror guys and her girlfriends. There’s a common space to the right of the entrance, along with a café, a pharmacy, and a couple of fast-food restaurants where students mill around. I keep my head down and wait for the elevator.
I’m joined by half a dozen students, all with full backpacks. A guy who’s at least a head taller than everyone else, wearing a Tilton Hockey baseball cap, tips his head.
I glance at him, give him a small smile, and nod.
His eyes flare as he registers who I am.
Thankfully we reach Tally’s floor, and I step out before he says anything.
The smell of burned toast, pizza, and something sweet fills the hall. I stop outside Tally’s apartment and run my hands down my thighs, suddenly nervous. What I’m about to do will change things again. Not being able to just pull her into my arms and hug her almost fucking killed me back at the Terror office. I want to be the person she comes to when she’s hurting. I want to be in her text messages every day. The alternative is unthinkable.
I knock on her door.
The silence stretches on for so long I worry I have the wrong apartment. But eventually I hear footfalls and a muffled, “Oh, God.” Followed by, “Just a second!”
Another minute passes before the door swings open.
Tally’s eyes are red-rimmed, and her voice is hoarse. “Did I leave something in your car?”
I shove my hands in my pockets so I don’t give in and tuck her hair behind herear—I’m no creep. “No.”
“Oh.” Her fluffy cat tries to dart between us, but she scoops him up before he can make an escape.
I have a lot of things I want to say but easing into it is probably best. “Would you like to grab a bite to eat?”
She blinks, and blinks again. “With you?”
I nod. “Yeah. I’d like to take you out for dinner, but only if you’re up for it.” Ordering in is an option, but being alone with her in her apartment will test my personal restraint, and I’ve come to realize that when Tally is vulnerable, she channels it in one direction, and saying no to her isn’t something I enjoy.
“Like to a restaurant?” She looks shocked and hopeful.
“Yeah, exactly.”
“Are you doing this because you feel sorry for me?” Her voice is barely a whisper.
“No, Talls. That reason isn’t anywhere on the list. I want to spend time with you.”
“Why?”
“Why?” I echo.
She nods, still hugging her squirming cat.
