“As long as it doesn’t interfere with business, I’m not gonna stand in your way.”
I nod and we turn back to the parking lot.
I can’t help but let a smile touch the corners of my lips when I see how many people are now moving toward the dormitories. After my injury, even thinking about the future made me want to roar and turn the other away.
But here, with the camp, I see a possible way out.
Alone.
Finally, I spot Grace at the other end of the lot, my chest seizing for a moment at the sight of her. I push that impulse down, ignoring it. I’m sticking to my plan. If she could dump me once for some trumped-up reason, she could do it anytime, for any stupid little thing. She’s not someone you can trust, not someone you can rely on to stand by you through the ups and downs of life. I can admit that I’m drawn to her, but there’s no way I’m going to let my heart get involved this time. I know better now.
I’ll be nice to her … but only so I can ghost her later, let her taste her own bitter medicine.
I stand up and swagger over, plastering a cocky smirk on my face.
It gets harder to maintain the closer I get, though.
Seeing Grace through my computer screen and in real life are two very different things, like seeing a glass of water and being able to drink it, drink every last curvaceous drop.
She’s tied her brown locks up into an untidy ponytail, making me want to fist it and let it loose, cascading down her shoulders. Her yoga pants cling to her strong thighs, highlighting curves that send urgent signals right to the base of my manhood. She’s wearing minimal makeup, meaning I can see the cute cardinal glow of her cheeks.
She stops, noticing me.
Her eyebrows go up in surprise.
Here comes a bitchy comment.
“Oh, hey,” she says, smiling. “Harry, how are you?”
I stare for a second, not sure what to do. I’ve played this moment a million times in my head and she always said something combative.
“Grace,” I say, offering a half-smile of my own. If she wants to play nice, fine. It’ll just make it all the sweeter when she feels what I felt. “How are you? Want some help with your bags?”
“What a gentleman,” she says with a laugh. “Sure, that’d be nice.”
I reach over and take one of her suitcases, my bare bicep inadvertently brushing along her arm. For a blistering instance, we both pause.
I feel a thrum move through me, one I haven’t felt … well, since Grace.
Quickly, I snatch my hand away and head for the dorm.
“This way,” I tell her.
“This is amazing, Harry,” she says as we walk. “Everything looks so shiny and new. You must care about people’s fitness a lot.”
What game is she playing? Or is it possible I’m just letting my paranoia get the better of me?
“It’s the next best thing to a football career,” I allow.
“Soccer,”she scolds, the way she used to when we were kids. “How many times have I gotta tell you?”
I turn to her, winking. “Just one more, I reckon. Because you’re wrong. You know how I know? Because we invented it first.”
“Hey, no fair,” she laughs as we walk along the edges of the bright green field toward the nearest dorm. The sun frames her face, the warm ice of her eyes glistening. “You can’t throwhistoryin my face.”
I swallow, painfully aware that this goddamn borderline banter was not how I’d planned this. But then, I’d expected the Grace who ghosted me, not this friendly, vivacious woman.
“I just did,” I tell her with a smirk. “Are you ready for tomorrow? Four-thirty AM in the gym.”
