Page 59 of Full Court Love
Her eyes grow wide, and I want to suck the words right back the second I hear them. “I mean…I’m so sorry. That wasn’t cool. Terrible choice of phrase.”
For a moment, I’d forgotten where we stood. I let myself fall right back into our sarcastic banter. Now I just look at her and wonder “What if?” It’s a question I can’t let myself answer.
Her gaze has turned back toward the floor. She’s blinking rapidly, as if fighting tears. Every second of this is torture because I did this to her. I wanted nothing more than to protect her, and in the end, I’m the one who hurt her the worst.
It’s so predictable.
Take one look at my lineage. I always knew I was bringing too much baggage to the table. Is there a story like Cinderella, except the guy is the one way out of his league, and he ends up hurting the princess? Not sure.
Either way, I need to keep reminding myself that this is truly for the best.
Which is a difficult feat when I’m faced with Lucy’s tears.
Finally, she breaks the silence. “Do you need something? I want to get going.”
“Yeah, I’m taking you home.” So much for giving her space.
“Ha. Like hell you are.”
Her face is resolute as she wobbles to her feet and attempts to grab her bags. It’s painful to witness the struggle. It’s especially hard when she tumbles to the floor once again.
She looks up at me with a mixture of bitterness and defeat.I walk over, pull her up, hand her the crutches, and grab her bags. I hold the door open as she crutches through.
Without looking at me, she heads down the hallway.
I hate myself for hurting her and for secretly loving the fact that I have an excuse to take care of her again.
It’s really all I’ve ever wanted to do.
CHAPTER 25
LUCY
Iconsider myself a relatively kind person. Actually, I’m usually incredibly kind. But the urge to elbow Jordan in the face every time he readjusts my pillows or puts ice on my foot is almost too strong to fight.
Maybe just like a quick knee to the…groin area.
I feel like it would be cathartic. Just a little release of anger and hurt and agonizing pain.
I’m really fighting the impulse, but it’s pretty strong. I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.
It’s almost as intense as the urge to wrap my arms around him and kiss him again. Every time he touches me, I have to mask the spark I still feel.
The warmth.
The love.
He still has that effect on me.
I mean, that’s not something you turn off overnight. Plus, he’s literally my live-in nurse right now, which is so hot, it’s driving me wild.
It genuinely makes me wonder if I wronged a demigod in another life and I’m now faced with my penance: I mustendure the gentle and caring nature of a man I love after he has dumped me.
Whoever first coined the phrase “love sucks” is quite the poet.
I don’t know if it’s good or bad that I never told him I love him. My pride tells me it’s for the best, but the part of me that sounds like my dad tells me I don’t want to live in regret.
Where’s the line between potential regret and desperation?