I exhaled sharply, grabbed my water bottle, and tipped my head back. The water didn’t help. Neither did pretending. Because underneath the embarrassment, the comments, the frustration—it was still there. The pulse that hit when he looked at me. The pull that made me forget the room around us. I would absolutely not give in to whatever my body wanted to do with Connor O’Riley’s. I couldn’t. It was just a physical feeling that would evaporate the less time we spent together. Biological nonsense. I needed to remember why I didn’t like him.
Right, okay, this was easy: list all the things I didn’t like about him.
One: he was arrogant.Except, was he anymore? I’d seen a different side lately and glimpses of a softer side to him.
Two: he was a distraction.Still true.
Three: he was competitive and that… what? It wasn’t a surprise. It was something that made me hot all over. It used to simply fuel my academic desires, but now, I’m not sure what it does.
Four: he… shit, was I running out of reasons?
No, he was still something. Infuriating. Annoying. Something complicated. Something I absolutely didn’t have time for.
“I’m going for a run,” I said, even though my legs still throbbed from already doing that.
Micah tilted her head. “You sure that’s a good idea? You just did a shoot, now training—”
“I need it.”
She sighed, but I was already out the door, needing the cool air to soothe me.
The first breath of it hit my lungs. It was warm, but not too warm, and I took a long pull of the salty air. I started down the path behind the gym, feet pounding the pavement, every stride a way to outrun the morning—the cameras, the noise, the goddamn heat still under my skin.
I wouldn’t let myself feel anything for Connor. It could jeopardize so much more than my first season as captain. What kind of example would I be setting for my team by giving in to a distraction like him? It would have to stay within the realm of PR.
The more air that swished around me as I ran, the clearer my head got. My legs found a rhythm, my chest loosened, and for the first time today, everything settled into the way my body moved.
I rounded the corner by the east side of the pitch, fast enough that I didn’t register the shadow until it was too late. A solid shoulder clipped mine, hard, and my next step faltered.
“Whoa—Shit—” the figure gasped.
A strong hand caught my elbow before I stumbled and went down. But I knew that voice. That’s the one I’d been trying to forget since I left him.
Of course it had to be him. It couldn’t have been any other member of the Knights. One that didn’t make my body respond the way he did.
Of course the universe couldn’t let me have an uninterrupted lap without throwing Connor O’Riley directly into my path.
His fingers were steady where they gripped my elbow, thumb brushing my skin once before he seemed to realize what he was doing.
“Easy there, Captain,” he said in his gruff voice. Had it always been that deep?
I snatched my arm back. “I’m fine.” Clearly.
He huffed and moved his arms to fold over his chest, as though he was waiting for something. Melting under the heat of that stare would be too easy; it was potent and male, and more than anything, it pissed me off.
“What? Do you need something?”
His eyebrow lifted. “You tell me. You nearly took me out. Figured that kind of exit came with a reason.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I was trying to escape the internet, but apparently, you’re part of that problem too.”
That got a crooked smile out of him. “Ah. You saw it.”
“Oh, you mean the viral masterpiece of my humiliation currently making the rounds on Buzz’s social media?” I bit out. “Yeah, hard to miss.”
He shifted his weight, mouth twitching like he was fighting a laugh. “I call it marketing genius. Half the country thinks we’re the next big power duo.”
“Which isexactlythe problem.” I crossed my arms, ignoring how close he still was. “We’re supposed to be professionals, not whatever fantasy the PR team just decided to post.”
