Page 51 of Heart of Thorns
But I am most definitely not excited to see my ex walking down the hall with his sights set on me.
“Hey, Bry,” he says, stopping in front of me.
I scowl at the use of my old nickname. No one but my parents call me Bry, which is where he got it from.
“Hello.” My greeting comes out clipped. It’s just as harsh as I wanted.
Ben winces. He seems uncomfortable at best; shuffling on his feet, readjusting his bag over his shoulder, running his hand through his damp hair. “So, how have you been? You didn’t answer me the other night.”
I laugh. It’s sarcastic, and he knows it.
“Are you serious?”
He glances away. “Just because we’re not together anymore doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”
I push away from the door, ignoring the twinge in my knee. Ben stares at me from his tall frame. I peer into his eyes and feelnothing.Except some animosity, like Thorne had noted the other night.
I guess he’s already able to read me.
“You don’t get to say things like that, Ben. Not when you made it very clear you didn’t care about me when we weretogether.” I roll my lips. “And please don’t get this conversation confused with thinking I care about you. In case you haven’t heard, I’ve moved on.”
Sort of.
I have gotten over him, but it doesn’t really have much to do with Thorne.
“Hey, baby.”
Both Ben and I turn to see Thorne heading in our direction. I make no effort to step away from my ex, but as soon as he catches his quarterback glaring at him, he quietly growls and steps backward.
“Everything okay?” Thorne steps beside me. His arm slips around my waist, and suddenly, the conversation with Ben is a little less irritating.
Who knew having a fake boyfriend would give me confidence?
The longer the three of us are in the hallway, the tighter the air becomes. A few football players walk past, eyeing us suspiciously. At the last second, I pull my attention from the silent sparring match between my fake boyfriend and ex and catch the back side of the group of guys.
My eyes are drawn to the one farthest away. He’s sporting a black hoodie, and all I can focus on is the hood tugged up over his head.
A darkness works over me, and I lean closer to Thorne.
His fingers dig into my hip, and it isn’t until I feel the faintest touch of his skin against mine that I’m brought back to reality.
“I’ll just catch you later,” Ben says to me while glaring at Thorne.
Thorne replies with a dark chuckle.
He waits until the hallway is empty before turning to glance at me. “You need to tell me why you two broke up, kitten.”
I roll my eyes and shove his hand off my hip.
No one is around, so there’s no need for him to be touching me.
I stalk into the weight room, eager to work my body. It’s a good distraction—just like hockey used to be, and probably like football is for Thorne.
I drop my bag by the nearest wall and immediately go for the stationary bike in the corner.
Thorne walks in a few seconds after me and chuckles when he finds me already heading in that direction.
“You know,” He follows after me. “Just because you walk away doesn’t mean the conversation is over, right?”