26. Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Six

Carissa

A girl can only play so many rounds of chicken before she feels like she has violated one too many sets of pectorals. There is no classy way to play the game, and all of the guys want me as their partner, which means I've spent at least the last half an hour sitting on a man's shoulders while shoving another man's wet chest, trying to knock him over.

Don't get me wrong. I'm enjoying all these muscles, and under different circumstances I'd probably be in heaven surrounded by so many abs.

But Cole isn't here.

After winning yet another round—the guys are absolutely letting me win—I slide from Grayson's shoulders and swim to the edge of the indoor pool so I can hang on to the side while Grayson trash talks Noah and Jeff. I didn't realize how deep the water was until I was no longer sitting atop a six foot three fullback. I'm exhausted, and if Cole doesn't show up soon, I might as well just go to bed so I can be ready for tomorrow's game.

"Wanna give it a go?" Loren asks, swimming up beside me. He looks right at home in the water, which might be what earned him the nickname Sharkie.

I smile at him, knowing he's about to be very disappointed. "I think I'm all chickened out."

"Oh, but you haven't gone up against me yet," a familiar voice says above my head.

I look up, way more excited to see Cole than I should be. "That's big talk from a guy still fully dressed," I say.

Cole looks down. While he did change into swim trunks and flip flops, he's still wearing a shirt. And I am way more disappointed by that than I should be. I haven't seen him shirtless, and while I know he's strong, I wouldn't mind seeing exactly what's under there.

"That's because I just got here, Paxton," he says. "Now, don't tell me you're too scared to fight me." He nods at Gator in the pool. "Think you and I could take Sharkie and Rizzo?"

Gator grins. "Yeah."

"Great." Then he pulls off his shirt.

That's not a good way to describe his movement. Pulling off a shirt is basic. Instinctual. What Cole does is… intentional . His arms flex as he reaches back and grabs the collar of his shirt, pulling it over his head with slow deliberation and revealing his torso inch by agonizing inch. His abdominal muscles tense and strain as they come into view, and it's all I can do to hold on to the edge to keep from sinking to the bottom.

Tossing his shirt aside, he lifts both arms overhead, a smirk on his lips as he twists and stretches. After a few more flexes, he dives over top of me and into the water. When he surfaces and does that little head shake thing to get his dark hair out of his eyes, I nearly whimper, and then he climbs onto Gator's shoulders and is lifted into the air, water running over his tanned skin as he runs a hand through his hair and sends a grin my way.

"You up for this, Paxton?" he asks, his voice low and rumbling.

He knows exactly what he's doing.

I'm shaking as I get onto Loren's shoulders, and I know before we've even started that Cole won't let me win like the other guys did. There is an undeniable challenge in his eyes. The rest of the team surrounds us like this is going to be the match of the century, but they'll probably be disappointed. All of these guys are insanely strong and fit, but there's something about Cole's ridged torso and rippling arms that makes him look unbreakable. Like nothing in the world can touch him. Like silly tabloids could say whatever they want about him and he'd keep living his life how he wants. Combine that stability with his flirty smile, and I'm a goner.

Loren's hands wrap around my shins, and he tilts his head back to look up at me. "Ready?"

Cole cocks his head and lifts one eyebrow, silently asking me the same thing.

Oh boy. I'm so not ready.

"Ready," I squeak.

As the rest of the guys start cheering, Loren and Gator both surge forward, and instinctively I raise my hands, grabbing Cole's fingers before he can push my shoulders back and knock me from my perch. He locks our fingers together and shoves, but I throw my elbows back so the force of his push simply brings him closer. That was a bad idea. He's so close that I see the caramel tint to his brown eyes and the flash of his tongue between his lips.

Lips that almost captured mine in that elevator.

Cole pushes again, aided by Gator's powerful stance, and I squeak as I fall backward. But Loren keeps us upright and moves a few steps back, giving me some space to sit up even though I'm still gripping Cole's big hands. I've been through this enough times tonight that my core muscles are on fire, but I'm determined to give this my all.

"Forward!" I command, and Loren obeys, surging through the water like it's nothing. I pull our arms in so they're between Cole and me, hoping Loren's power is enough to push the other two back and off balance.

But Cole easily spreads my arms out again, and the sudden loss of resistance sends my face careening right into his broad chest. By some miracle he keeps me from breaking my nose on his collar bone by leaning back, but my relief lasts only a moment. Still gripping my hands, he tucks my arms behind me and lets go so he can wrap his arms around my back as he tugs us both to the side, tearing me free from Loren's shoulders and dunking me in the water.

The cheers overhead muffle as we sink deeper, locked together, and I don't care that my lungs are burning because I am pressed against the most beautiful man I've ever met and have never felt safer.

I feel him kick against the bottom, pushing us upward, and I gulp a lungful of air as soon as we break the surface. Cole immediately pushes my hair out of my face, still holding on to me with his other arm, and I don't need to kick my legs because he's keeping us afloat even though I don't think he can touch the bottom right here.

"You good?" he asks, eyes locked on me as he shifts a few inches to the side to where he can stand.

I narrow my eyes, still taking deep breaths as I try to recover from that whirlwind few seconds. "You were supposed to let me win."

"Where's the fun in that?"

"We all know you're bigger and stronger and perfect," I argue. "How about you show a girl some gallantry?"

His hand brushes over my hair again, even though he's already cleared my face. I think he just wants the excuse to touch me. (For the record, I don't blame him. My own hands are splayed across his chest, admiring the muscle on this man.) "I'm always gallant," he says with a smirk, and his fingers tighten against my waist, drawing a gasp from me. We're pressed together, skin to skin and our faces only inches apart, and I can see his thoughts racing behind his eyes as he studies my face.

His voice drops to a gruff whisper. "But I'm also losing patience."

"Me too," I whisper back.

"You guys good?" Wyatt says loudly.

We break apart, and my head slips beneath the water before I grab Cole's shoulder to pull myself up again. Does my other hand happen to press against his abs while I do? Maybe.

Not only is Wyatt staring at us as he sits on the edge of the pool, but the rest of the guys are doing the same. I hadn't realized how quiet the pool had gotten after Cole's win.

Cole clears his throat. "I was making sure she was okay after that tackle," he says to no one in particular.

"Sure," Wyatt says.

"Maybe that article isn't as phony as we thought," Grayson adds, folding his arms as his eyes jump between Cole and me. I can't tell if he's angry or simply curious. Either way, it's dangerous.

Stomach clenching, I slip away from Cole and swim to where Wyatt is sitting. I hold out my hand, which he grabs, and I plant my feet high on the wall so he can pull me up and out. I grab my towel, wrapping it around my torso, and smile at the guys, who are all watching me.

"Cole and I are not dating," I say as confidently as I can. "I don't date my patients."

"Why not?" Loren asks, frowning up at me.

"It's none of our business," Cole says. He hasn't moved from his spot in the pool, and neither has he done anything to curb the longing in his expression. That's not exactly going to help things, but I also don't want him to stop looking at me like that. "She doesn't have to tell us anything. "

I can't stop my smile as his defense warms me from the inside out. "It's because," I say, though I'm probably going to regret being honest, "I can't trust my ability to make decisions lately. And I like working with you guys, so I don't want to ruin that."

A few murmurs spread through the guys as they look at each other. Wyatt speaks first. "Say we think you shouldn't let us hold you back from something you want," he says slowly. "Would you date one of us then?"

My eyes flit to Cole, whose eyes have somehow gotten darker in the last few seconds. "Maybe."

"But it would be me, yeah?" Grayson says, giving me a wide grin.

Loren punches him in the arm. "It would obviously be me."

"You're the only one who made her lose at chicken fighting," Grayson argues.

Loren jumps on him, dunking him under the water, and suddenly the guys still in the pool are all joining in a sort of brawl that makes me glad I'm on solid ground.

Regrettably, Cole lifts himself out of the pool on the other side, drying off with a towel without looking my way, but before I can head his direction, Wyatt touches my arm.

"You can be with him, you know."

I blink, tearing my eyes away from the corded muscle in Cole's back to look at Wyatt. "What?"

Though he smiles, the expression looks almost defeated. "Cole. I think we all knew he had your attention from the beginning, though none of us wanted to admit it."

Maybe I shouldn't be surprised that our glances and stolen moments haven't gone unnoticed, but I hoped we had avoided making things awkward with everyone else. I frown, shaking my head and tucking my towel tighter around me. Now that I'm out of the water and away from the warm bodies of the team, I'm starting to get cold in the air conditioning .

"Cole and me, it's a bad idea," I mutter. Movement pulls my eyes back to Cole, who pushes through the door to the hotel without looking back. I already miss him, but I need the distance before I start letting myself think I can have him.

"Why is it a bad idea?" Wyatt asks, folding his arms. "He's clearly into you."

"Him and everyone else," I mumble, wincing as soon as the words leave my mouth. How vain can I be? "I didn't mean—"

"Hey, you'll hear no arguments from me." Wyatt chuckles, shaking his head as if he can't understand anything I'm telling him. "We all like you for a reason, Carissa. If Rihanna is the one who gets your heart going, then none of us are going to stand in your way. Believe it or not, we're tough guys. We can handle a little rejection now and then."

I'm not sure I believe him, but before I can call his bluff, he jumps into the pool with a shout and joins the brawl.

Shivering, I stand there for another minute, trying to figure out what to do now. If Wyatt is right, the team won't go back to hating Cole if I start dating him. That's one obstacle down, even if it doesn't lessen my fears of something going wrong and costing me a job I'm really starting to like. But why am I so afraid? It's not like Cole is harboring a secret family, and I know he would never deliberately hurt me. My reasons for staying away from him don't stand up on their own anymore.

Cole has his own reasons, but again… If the team is okay with us dating…

Unsure what this means for us, I grab my flip flops and Cole's abandoned shirt, slipping the warm fabric on before I head around the pool to the same door Cole used. He's probably halfway to his room by now, and I am desperate for a shower to warm up, but as I pad down the hallway in my bare feet, shoes and towel in hand, I'm thinking I might text him as soon as I'm rinsed off so we can talk about this whole timing thing. What if the right time is now?

Oh, but what if he doesn't agree? That might be worse than waiting. After the way he nearly kissed me in the elevator, it feels silly to worry, but if he still thinks we need to keep our distance, then I don't—

A hand grips my arm, tugging me into a vending machine alcove right before the lobby. I only get a moment to study the intense determination in Cole's eyes before his mouth is on mine. Hungry. Needy. Perfect.

Dropping everything, I melt into him, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling myself closer. He groans as my fingers find his wet hair, and his warm hands slide beneath my thighs to lift me up and better match his height. He leans me up against a wall and coaxes the kiss deeper until all sense of reason leaves me and there is nothing but this man and his mouth and this kiss.

Cole kisses like something inside him needs to be set free, his bare shoulders taut beneath my fingers as he expertly moves his lips against mine and keeps me suspended against the wall with the weight of his body, my legs locked around his waist. One of his hands is in my hair, the other pressed against my waist, and every place we touch burns with electricity. For all the enthusiasm in his efforts, I feel his restraint and the way it seems to slip more and more every few seconds, like whatever control he has will soon be hanging by a thread. I'm all for it, doing my best to match his every action because I have been desperate to experience this for so long.

He pulls away first, mouth lingering against mine as he breathes heavily and presses his hand to my cheek. "Carissa," he whispers, my name on his breath like a balm against my swollen lips.

It's a terrible reaction to the world's best kiss, but I laugh. It feels like the only thing I can do when I'm unraveling from the inside out. Everything about that kiss exceeded my wildest imaginings, and I will forever be changed after tonight. Reality won't be the same. "Where did that come from?" I breathe.

Opening his eyes, Cole studies me for a beat and then covers my ears with his hands just long enough for him to whisper something I can't hear. I can't read lips either, so I have no idea what he just said to me.

It wasn't "I love you." I know that much. But it was something that feels important, and as his hands fall from my ears to my neck, I try to read his thoughts in his dark eyes. Whatever he's thinking, it's making him anything but happy.

"I told you," Cole says after a moment, slowly lowering me back to my feet, which probably means I'm not getting another kiss like that tonight. "No more patience."

I can barely stand upright because my body is still reacting to that kiss, so I lean against the wall and wish he was wearing his shirt so I could grab hold of it and keep him from leaving. Grabbing his bare waist feels too desperate, even for me.

Cole seems to realize what I'm wearing at the same moment I'm thinking this, his eyes tracing the way his gray shirt hangs at my mid-thigh, and his muscles contract as he takes a step back, making him look even stronger than a moment ago. "Can I add something to the rules?" he asks, voice strained.

My heart sinks. "I thought we were done with rules."

Shaking his head, he runs a hand through his damp hair and takes another step away from me. "Carissa, we can't—"

"The guys are okay with it. With us." But even as I say it, I know that's not Cole's only hangup. "And you're not cursed."

"But what if I am?" He swallows thickly. "What if you get hurt because of me?"

"I won't!"

"What. If." His eyes glisten with moisture, the first time I've seen any kind of emotion like that with him. His pain settles deep inside me, an ache that I already know won't go away until I can heal him first. "Carissa, you're too special to risk. "

"So you would rather lose me now?" I fold my arms, anger surging in my belly. "You can't kiss me like that and then say you don't want to be with me. I know you do, and I want to be with you . Why are we still fighting this?"

He growls. "Because—"

I don't let him finish. Rising to my toes, I grab his neck and pull myself up to kiss him again. He responds immediately, hands gripping the shirt at my waist and tugging me closer as he explores my mouth with a desperation that matches mine. We're two souls pulled together by a force stronger than anything I've ever felt, and I never want to stop kissing him.

But I do, slipping from his hold and grabbing my towel and shoes with shaky fingers.

"We have a game to focus on tomorrow," I murmur, keeping my eyes on my toes. "So I'm going to go up to my room and try to sleep. But after you win?" I peek up at him, my face heating when I see the burning desire in his gaze. "We're going to talk about this. I'm not letting you go that easily, Coleman Evanson."

He doesn't call me back or say anything to argue as I slip from the alcove and head to the elevator. I can't decide if that's good or bad, and I get back to my room quickly.

Mel's already asleep, though her phone is lying on the bed next to her, in the middle of a call. I smile when I see that it's Moxie on the other end. Moxie's surgery went well, but Mel has been worried about him all week, leaving practice early most days to stop by and check on him on her way home. Thankfully she finally found a reliable daycare that she can afford, which has given her the chance to keep an eye on Moxie and spend more time with him.

Something tells me it's not just about helping his recovery.

Carefully reaching across the bed and ending the call—from the silence on the other end, I'm guessing Moxie is asleep too—I quickly hop in the shower. I don't need to warm up anymore thanks to Cole, but I'm eager to wash away the day and let my heart rate calm despite my racing thoughts.

I get that Cole is scared. History has set convincing precedence to believe in a family curse. But if he's going to let that fear keep us from being more than friends, I need to know now. I value his friendship too much to lose him, but I'm done giving my heart away to men who won't give me theirs in return.

This is exactly why I avoided Cole in the first place.

By the time I get out of the shower and climb into bed, I'm ready to sleep as long as I possibly can, but my phone buzzes on the end table. I frown—it's late—but grab it to see who texted me.

My stomach dips when I see Cole's name on the screen.

Cole:

I'm sorry.

You deserve more than what I gave you tonight.

Frowning, I think through the many possible meanings of his words. Is he saying I deserve more than a man who's too scared to try? More conversation? More kissing?

He texts again before I can wonder for too long.

Cole:

You're right, and we should talk tomorrow after the game.

Carissa:

After you win, you mean.

Cole:

Yes. After we win.

Carissa:

Is this the kind of talk where you're going to tell me it's not me, it's you?

Cole:

I don't know yet.

I hope not.

I'm trying.

Carissa:

Trying is good.

I pause with my fingers over the screen, wondering how much I should say in a text. I would rather say it all in person, but I'm worried about giving him too much room to think over the next twenty-four hours. Biting my lip, I type out another text and hit send before I can overthink things.

Carissa:

No matter what, I'm going to be your friend, Cole, but I would love to be more than that. I know you're scared, and I am too, but I don't think we're supposed to go through life letting fear hold us back. We can do so much more than we think we can.

Cole:

You are an excellent physical therapist.

I grin, feeling his praise down to my toes. Maybe I don't have to be too worried just yet. He's willing to talk tomorrow, which is a step in the right direction.

Cole:

As a fair warning, I'm going to avoid you tomorrow.

Carissa:

That's a terrible idea.

Cole:

Like you said, I need to focus on winning tomorrow's game, and if I get too close to you, I'm going to want to remind you about what happened downstairs.

Carissa:

What happened downstairs? I've already forgotten. I think I need ALL the reminders.

Cole:

You are dangerous.

Carissa:

That's my middle name.

Cole:

Your middle name is Lynn.

I gasp. How in the world does he know that?

Cole:

I'm avoiding you tomorrow. Just know that I don't want to.

I appreciate the clarification, though I still don't like it. Nor do I like the idea of ending this conversation.

Carissa:

What's your middle name?

Cole:

Camilo.

Carissa:

Where is that from?

Cole:

It's Portuguese. The male version of my mom's name, Camila.

Carissa:

I love that. I wish you could have known her.

Cole:

I wish that too, but I've got my dad and Gramps.

Carissa:

You have me too.

Maybe that was too bold of me because Cole doesn't reply. I settle myself beneath the covers, wondering how tomorrow is going to go. This is my first away game, and I think the guys badly need a win after what happened to Moxie. Part of me wishes Cole had waited until after the game to kiss me so we wouldn't have a distraction, but the bigger part of me keeps reliving the kiss as I close my eyes and try to sleep.

Another text comes in right before I fall asleep, and I look at it with bleary eyes.

Cole:

Do me a favor and don't read the Hot Scoop article that was just posted.

My heart skips a beat, and I roll my eyes as I type the website into my search bar. Surely he knows me better than—oh. My stomach twists into knot after knot as I quickly read the article. Yeah, maybe I should have listened.