Running Back (New York Leopards 2)

I nodded as I backed away, but once I’d closed my door I leaned against it and let out a moan.

Apparently not quietly enough, because I heard a low chuckle through my door. I tossed the candy on the dresser and then flung myself onto my bed, this time using my pillow to muffle my embarrassment.

For five impossibly long minutes, I tried to make myself breathe deeply and think of something calming and non-sexual. Unfortunately, I was having a hard time coming up with non-sexual objects. Or not just straight up picturing Mike’s body.

I had the worst timing in the history of the world.

Then again, he could have thrown a shirt on. Who answered the door practically naked? I could have been room service. He could have scarred someone.

Then again, he hadn’t seemed surprised to see me, and my door had a peek-hole. So maybe he’d chosen not to put a shirt on.

Okay. I had to stop overthinking everything.

Over five minutes had passed, so I picked up the goods and went back to his door. This time, Mike wore jeans and a Leopard’s T-shirt when he opened the door.

“Sorry,” I said automatically. “About—earlier.”

“No worries. What’s up?”

I lifted the Reeses. “I brought peace offerings.”

He stepped back and I moved inside his room. It had the same set up as mine, but there were already marks of his presence, sneakers and shirts tossed carelessly about. A set of weights lay in one corner, a football beside them. I wondered if he had anyone to practice with here.

The door clicked shut behind me and I turned back to Mike. He cocked his head at the half-eaten bag of candy. “That’s a pretty paltry olive branch.”

“I know. I was munchy earlier.” When he sat on his bed, I took it as my cue to curl up in an overstuffed mint-green armchair several feet away. He didn’t look away from me as he leaned against the headboard, his long legs sprawled out before him.

I took a deep breath. “Look, I know it’s a little awkward, me being here. Especially when I’m sort of a work problem and this is your personal life, and your family’s here... If it bothers you, I can get a room in Cork.” The bus ride would take an hour to get to the village, but that would be preferable to dealing with Mike if he didn’t want me here. “So, I don’t know, I just of thought if you had any issues you wanted aired, we could air them. Now. Until we’re cool.”

He stared at me.

I sank my head into my hands. “I’m sorry. I’m not a very eloquent speaker. Which sort of sucks, because I have a speech to give in September and I’m already freaking out about it.” I sighed and looked up. “How are you so together?”

He popped a Reeses in his mouth. “I’m not together.”

I scoffed.

“Didn’t you see my family down there?”

His warm, entertaining family that was so comfortable with one another that they could pick and snap at each other without fear of damaging their relationships? “Yeah. They’re wonderful.”

“Wonderful in moderation.”

“I mean it. They’re great.”

He cocked his head at my tone. “What’s that mean?”

All right, maybe I’d been a little too emphatic. I lifted my shoulders in slight embarrassment. “They were great.”

His eyes widened. “Are you kidding? Didn’t you notice my little sister storming out?”

I dismissed that with a wave of my hand. “She’s seventeen.”

“Yeah, old enough to know better. Were you like that at seventeen?”

I’d been president of National Honors Society, president of the French club, vice-president of the Sobriety Council, junior member of the Rotary Club and a choir member. For my seventeenth birthday party, my parents’ friends’ children and several members of my class had come over for a catered dinner by a local celebrity chef.

That year, like the sixteen before it, I had spent almost every day wanting to gouge my eyes out in the few moments I didn’t feel numb.