Big Boxer (Big Boys) by Cassie Mint

Author:Cassie Mint [Mint, Cassie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Cherry Publishing
Published: 2021-09-29T16:00:00+00:00

Six

Beck

It’s only been two days, and Lucas is wearing another black polo with dark green sweatpants, but he looks different somehow. More tired, maybe, or just harsher. His eyes are tight and his jaw is clenched.

Spark report: no sparks found.

I don’t say that out loud. I’m not an idiot.

“I want to apologize.” My words are so quiet, swallowed up by the cool air. I clear my throat, and force myself to speak louder. He deserves to hear this. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Lucas sounds almost bored, his frown fixed on my skirt. I shift my weight, but don’t reach for the hem.

“For… messing up,” I finish vaguely. I don’t know how else to explain it. All I know is I missed a really important cue back in my apartment, and when I did, I screwed everything up.

Lucas grunts. It’s not good enough.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, and raises an arm. Gestures to the door.

“It was all new, you know?” I speak quicker now. I don’t want to leave yet. “I’ve never done that before. Any of it. And I know I reacted wrong, but it wasn’t—I didn’t mean anything by it.” I draw a deep breath into my lungs and hold it for two beats. Then gust out my confession: “I loved what we did. I mean, really loved it.”

Lucas looks at me, finally. His hard gaze has softened, but his jaw is still clenched, shadowed with stubble. He seems almost regretful as he takes in my white sweater, my loose hair, my nervous stance.

“That’s okay, Beck.” His words are a relief and a disappointment, all in one. “It was a hook-up, that’s all. You didn’t have to come here.”

“No.”

I can’t stand that idea. This can’t be—this can’t be it.

He’s Lucas Scott. The man I’ve been dreaming of, yearning for, all these years. And the worst part is, he’s nothing like how I imagined.

He’s so much better. Gentle as well as strong.

And for a crazy second there, I actually had him. Before I screwed it all up, anyway. But you don’t grow up loving boxing unless you love the rush of a challenge. So I pull together the last threads of my courage, draw myself up to my full height, and meet his shocking blue gaze head on.

“I don’t want it to be over yet.”

Silence.

Stillness.

Lucas rolls his head on his neck, watching me. Is this how prey animals feel? My heart flutters beneath my sweater, beating a mile a minute. He seems to get bigger, somehow, muscles swelling under his clothes, and the air shivers between us.

“So what do you want?” His words are gravel. Scraped from his chest.

“To return the favor,” I whisper.

But—no. His mouth twists, and I’ve said the wrong thing. Gone wrong again. He sits back, disappointed, and all that primal intensity is gone. Drained away like it was never here, was never mine.

“It wasn’t a favor,” he clips out. “There’s nothing owed.” He gestures for the door again, and this time he really wants me to leave.

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