“Okay. Good.”
We stand there in the most awkward silence known to man. One where I become increasingly aware that I’m naked.
“I should shower now. I’ll be sure to be more considerate with changing and undressing going forward.” The last thing I’d want to do is be cruel.
He gives me a sad half-smile. “Same.” It falls away. “Um, so about the bed…?”
Fuck. Right. I glance over his shoulder at the pristine white hotel bed. “It’s probably best if we change rooms. I can call when I get out of the shower.”
“No. I can call. I caused this mess. The least I can do is fix this part.”
I soften slightly. I know he didn’t mean it. But it doesn’tchange the precarious position we’re in now.No. You were always in that position. The minute you said yes to him.God, I’m so fucking thoughtless.
I smile tightly. “Thanks. That’d be good.”
Serious blue eyes bore into mine, the gravity in his gaze so at odds with his carefree personality. “I’m really sorry, Jed.”
The words are raw, laced with an aching understanding. I don’t know what it could possibly be, but it pierces the organ in my chest. Deep. Sharp.
He finally drops his gaze and disappears around the corner into the main part of the hotel room.
That’s when his words hit me. Words that passed through my brain without sinking in.
I had already told them I had a major crush on you.
My gut sinks.
There weren’tany other rooms available at the hotel.
Which is fine. Kind of.
We suffered through an awkward night, lying like statues, clearly too aware of one another to drift off.
Which probably explains why I played like complete shit. My reaction time was off, my brain a fogged mess. I was making horrible calls on the field and swinging at pitches I know better than to swing at. Shane somehow didn’t seem to be affected, and we scraped in a win.
It was hard fought, though. Three-and-a-half hours to get through those nine innings. We’re all dragging our feet. I don’t see Shane anywhere, and it’s probably better if wehead to our room separately anyway, so I slip from the locker room.
I could barely keep my eyes open back there, but the minute I set foot in our room my body starts buzzing. I pace as I brush my teeth. I put on sleep shorts. Then decide I should probably wear a shirt too. Then take it off, because am I making it weird by covering up so much? I’d slept nude back in Hartford. Which is a huge no now, but putting on a full snowsuit just draws more attention to the awkward situation we’re in.
I decide against the shirt and get into bed, but I’m too restless to lie still. Plus, just lying here with the light on while I wait for him to return feels…weird.
I get back out, throw in some headphones, and pull up a short yoga Youtube video. Some stretches and breathing will shake me out of this antsy-ness. And after a few minutes, I am feeling better.
Crash!
I practically jump out of my skin. I shoot up and whip around. And there’s Shane Michaels…lying in a heap on the floor. His cheeks are blazing red, and his eyes are squeezed shut tight.
I quickly pop out my headphones and hurry over to him. “Are you okay? What the hell happened?”
He buries his head in his arms. Muffled words drift up to me, but I don’t catch them.
“What was that?”
He turns to me and glares. “Your ass. Your ass, Jed. I thought we were supposed to benottempting each other. I walk in here, and you’re practically nakedand bent over.”
I can’t help myself. I laugh. I scrub a hand down my face. “Fuck. I’m sorry. Should have faced the other way. But I’m not naked. I’m wearing shorts.”
He untangles his limbs and stands. He shoots me an unimpressed look. “You’re going commando, Jed. Those shorts hide nothing, fuck you very much.”
