Into Your Arms (Squad Stories #1)(34)

Somehow, I'm able to slam on the brakes and pull back. I blink a few times and take another breath. Shit. That was close. Rhett clears his throat, and his face is just a little red under his beard.

He lets out a slow breath and chuckles under his breath.

"What?" I ask, afraid to know the answer.

"Nothing," he says, his voice a little rough. He turns to look at me again, but I don't meet his eyes. I can't let that happen.

"I should probably get home," I say, even though it's only eight. I need to get out of Rhett's apartment, which is filled with his things and his scent and him. It's too much to handle right now. It's scrambling my brain.

"Sure," he says in a distant voice. He pushes himself off the couch and holds out his hands to help me up. If I wasn't so full, I would ignore him, but I am, so I take his hands. They feel new and familiar all at once. His hands dwarf mine, but he holds me gently. He's still holding my hands and he needs to stop holding my hands and I need to go home.



       
         
       
        

Right now.

But then I look up at him and I just . . . I kiss him. I pop up on my toes and reach for his mouth and I kiss him. Just like that. His mouth is lush and soft. He's surprised at first and then he sinks into it, and I brush his bottom lip with my tongue and then I realize that I'm kissing Rhett and I should definitely not be kissing Rhett.

I drop his hands as if they're burning me and scoot around him, heading for the door.

"So, I'll see you tomorrow? Thanks for the food, I really have to go, bye," I say in a rush and basically bolt. He calls after me, but I don't listen.

I'm shaking when I get to my car and have to sit and breathe for a second before I can actually drive away. Part of me expects him to follow me after such a hasty exit, but he doesn't.

So I take another shaky breath before I turn on my car and drive back to my lonely apartment.

Rhett

Well that was weird. She was holding my hands one minute, kissing me the next, and then out of here in another. Damn, she had amazing lips. She must be into me if she kissed me, right? Maybe that was just wishful thinking on my side. I close my eyes and groan. I'd gotten just a tiny taste of her and now all I wanted was more.

I've never wanted to kiss anyone so much that it made me ache before. Never. It's an overwhelming feeling and I'm not sure what to do with it. My body can't seem to contain it all. I'm practically shaking.

I pace around my apartment, briefly considering going after her. I know where she lives, after all. But that would probably not go over well with Freya, so I just wear down the floorboards of my own place.

I could text her. I have her number in my phone for cheer-related reasons. Coach handed out a sheet with everyone's contact information a while ago.

What the fuck do I do in this situation? I rip my hands through my hair and pull out a few strands, but barely notice.

Never, in my whole life, has anyone twisted and torn me up like this. I'm beginning to think that there is something seriously wrong with me, because I cannot get her out of my head and when I'm with her . . .

It's easy. It's fun. She makes me laugh and it's just good. It's good with her. As someone who hasn't had a lot of good, I guess I like to cling to it when I find it. Thanks, shitty childhood for that.

I'm probably making more out of it than it is. And my fucking heart is going to get mangled in the process. I should back off. Cool down. I hopped aboard the runaway crush train, and I need to slow things down.

I haven't mentioned being friends, and she hasn't either. I figured she needed more than twenty-four hours, and bugging her with "will you be my friend?" again seemed, well, desperate. Even though I am. 

If Freya coming over for dinner once a week is as close to friendship as I can get, I'll take it. I'll take any time I can get with her. Fuck, I sound like a junkie waiting for their next fix, but I can't think of a better metaphor than that.

This is going to be a serious problem for me, but there's no going back now.

Fuck.

* * *

We have our first away game this weekend and I'm kind of nervous. I'm bunking with Clint at the crappy hotel just outside of the university, but it shouldn't be bad. I know there is definitely going to be some hooking up between more than a few of the squad members, in spite of it being heavily frowned upon. Like that's going to stop anyone.

Coach gives us a pep talk before we leave at the buttcrack of dawn on Saturday. We're all shuffling and yawning and adjusting our bags. Freya's eyes are adorably puffy, and her ponytail is askew. She barely gives me a nod before she's on the bus. Tobi sits with her, and I go a few seats back and Clint slides in next to me.