Page 113 of A Really Bad Idea

His arms are crossed, and his eyes are narrowed at me. “You’ve been avoiding me again.”

This was not one of the scenarios in my head.

“I have to run. My mom needs some John Frieda. I’m sure she’s planning beauty school lessons for the night staff.” I take a step toward the door, but he’s not budging, so I back away.

“Are you free tonight? I have an extra ticket to the Yankees game, and it has your name on it. Legends Suite, which means you can get Fresco To-Go delivered right to your seat.”

I fiddle with the strap of my bag, hating that he’s enticing me with Italian food. I love Italian food. “Bring your dad. Or Angela. You know how much she loves her new Bedazzler. She’ll make you a matching jersey.”

“Come on. I’ll wear my mom’s pink fishing hat, and I’ll even get you a foam finger.” He winks in an attempt to lure me in.

Why does he have to be so damn appealing? And I’m not talking about the foam finger or the hat, although that sounds pretty funny.

“No. I’m gonna see my mom, and then Dad is sleeping over again.”

With a nod, he places his hands in his pockets and chews on his lip. “I have tickets to the New Kids on the Block and Backstreet Boys concert.”

“You do?”

He looks at me with an arched brow. “Would you go with me?”

I adjust my bag on my shoulder and fold my arms, shrugging apologetically. “I’m busy.”

“I didn’t even tell you when it was.” His posture changes as an annoyed tone caresses his lips.

“When is it?”

“I don’t know because I didn’t buy them. I just made that up to prove that you’re avoiding me.” He runs his hand along the back of his neck, and I know I’ve officially found myself backed into the proverbial corner. Especially when he takes a step toward me and passionately looks at me with an irritated and a scornful clench of his jaw. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“A lot. And you know better than anyone that I have to work through it before I come out and say it.”

“Say what?” His body leans in as he waits for an answer.

“The look on your face right now is not what I was hoping for when I planned this conversation.”

He balks at my response. “You’re thinking about something that has to do with us, and I won’t let you decide for me.”

I sway my head to the side and inhale so deeply that my head feels hot, and I’m rubbing my hands together in uncertainty.

Christian is watching me, waiting. His eyes roam over my face until they settle on my eyes. He’s asking me questions, searching for … something. When his eyes widen and glaze over, I know he’s found the answer he was looking for.

His voice breaks down to a whisper. “You’ve changed your mind.”

“Christian—”

“Damn it.” He hits his fist on the closed door and then spins back. His hand flies to his hip, pushing his lab coat to the back. A pointed finger is aimed in my direction. “You can’t make a choice like that without me.”

“Things have changed.”

“What’s changed?” That naturally tan skin is searing red as his Adam’s apple bobs with every annoyed gasp.

“I’m in love with you,” I blurt out.

His eyes widen in a confused and moistened red glare. “You what?”

“You’re so damn intense. I didn’t plan on telling you like this. And, for the record, I didn’t plan on being in love with you either. It’s just something that happened, and … I can’t do this with you right now.”

I try to push him to the side to open the door to leave, but he’s on me, his body trapping me against the door. One hand is on the steel, another on the doorknob. His chest against my back is the only thing that is keeping me grounded.