Home > Books > Those Three Little Words (The Vancouver Agitators, #2)(131)

Those Three Little Words (The Vancouver Agitators, #2)(131)

Author:Meghan Quinn

“That doesn’t seem like him.” Posey looks over his shoulder to the back of the bus. “Is he running a fever?”

“I don’t know. He caught me in the hallway with Penny.” Posey gives me a look. “We weren’t doing anything but talking. And sure, I hugged her, but that was it.” It wasn’t it. Not really. I needed her hug like I needed my next breath. Just like it always is for me. “He asked if I liked her.”

“Do you?”

I nod slowly. “Yeah, and I think that’s what’s fucking with my head. I’ve never really felt like this before, man, toward anyone, and I don’t know how to process that.”

“That’s what’s been going on? You have feelings for a girl, and you don’t know what to do?”

“Yeah. We both agreed we don’t want to be in a relationship, but I swear to God, Posey, every day I spend with her, I feel like I could try a relationship with her.” Are we not almost in one anyway? Living together, sharing meals together, talking about and doing life together. Isn’t that what a relationship is?

Posey slowly nods. “That’s the problem, though, man. She’s not the kind of girl you try something out on. Either you’re all the way in, or you’re out. There’s no in-between.”

Unfortunately, I know he’s right. Penny isn’t a guinea pig for my lack of dating. She’s isn’t someone I should test the waters with. She’s the long-term girl you commit to, and I just don’t know if I’m the man who can commit.

“You’re right,” I say before letting out a heavy breath.

Fuck.

Penny: How are you feeling about tomorrow? You guys can do this. So what, you have to win three straight games in a row. That’s doable.

I stare at the text. It’s the third one she’s sent me today that I’ve left unanswered. I know she’ll start to worry, but I don’t know how to react to her. My head is telling me not to fuck this up. Keep things platonic. But my fucking soul is asking for a chance with her.

And I’ve been sitting in my hotel room since we left the arena for practice, doing nothing but festering in my own thoughts. I’m longing for interaction . . .

But I don’t want to lead her on. I don’t want to say something stupid.

Then again, if I don’t say anything, she’ll think something’s wrong.

Something is wrong, though.

All of this is wrong.

I wasn’t supposed to develop feelings for this girl. I wasn’t supposed to enjoy seeing her after a game, waiting for me. I wasn’t supposed to crave her warm body at night instead of this cold hotel bed. And I wasn’t supposed to prefer watching a show after a game with her, rather than going out to a bar.

But fuck, everything has changed.

I set my phone down and stand from my bed. I slip on a pair of sandals and a hoodie, flip the hood over my head, and grab my wallet. There’s a convenience store just outside of the hotel. Maybe if I grab myself a snack and a drink, that will clear my mind.

With a key card in hand, I head out of my hotel room and walk toward the elevator just as Posey rounds the corner. His hair is disheveled, and his shoulders are completely slumped.

“Hey,” I say, causing him to look up.

Surprised to see me, he pauses and then asks, “Where are you going?” He glances around. “Dude, please don’t tell me you’re headed down to the bar.”

The bar is where all the single guys on the team go given all the ladies know what hotel we’re staying at and where to find us if we’re looking for some fun.

“Do you really think I’d do that?”

“I don’t know. You’re in a weird headspace.”

“I could say the same about you.”

I’m not the only one on the team acting weird. I know the weight of our losses doesn’t rest solely on my shoulders because I’m not the only one struggling. And it’s showing right now, with the etch in Posey’s brow and the droop in his normally uplifting demeanor.

He moves his hand through his hair. “I’ll be fine.”

“You made me talk about my shit,” I say. “Maybe we should talk about yours.”

He shakes his head. “No, I can’t.”

“Were you downstairs at the bar?”

“No. I went for a walk.” His eyes meet mine. “Catching feelings is bullshit.” He moves past me, but I press my hand to his chest, halting him.

Catching feelings? Where the fuck is this coming from?