I have the TV on in the background playing the Hawks highlights from tonight’s game. I look up from my computer and watch, already knowing that the Hawks lost. I cringe as the highlights replay over and over the mistakes and errors that lead to the loss, and I know from experience that players usually take these kinds of losses to heart. As I lean back, stretching my arms above my head, Josh’s face appears on the screen.
Fuck, I can’t even escape him when I’m at work.
His interview is short and to the point. His face is a mask of anger, and from the way his shoulder is iced and taped, I’m guessing that was one of the issues he had during the game. For a split second, I wonder how he’s doing tonight, out of all the players on that team, he made the most mistakes… the most I’ve seen him make in years. And from what my dad used to tell me, the coach was probably on his ass the second they reached the locker room.
I peer over at the clock on my computer screen and realize I’ve been sitting here for way too long, so I get up and head out of my office to do a final sweep of the gym to make sure all the equipment is cleaned, and towels put away. Yet as I walk out of my office, I notice a shadow pacing back and forth in front of the windows. I squint through the darkness, trying to see who it is, but I can’t. So, like the smart woman I claim to be, I move closer.
My heart starts to beat a thousand times per second when I recognize the person pacing back and forth. He’s talking to himself and as I open the front door, I stand there in silence for a few seconds, just watching him.
“Josh?” I whisper. “What are you doing here?”
He looks gorgeous standing in the shadows, his hair all messed up around his face and his eyes that look almost black in the darkness. Without realizing it, my body is pulled toward him the longer we stare at each other. He smells like pine and soap as I try and not make a fool of myself and fall at his feet.
“Had a bad night,” he says, his fingers raking through the loose strands of his hair causing it to cover his eyes. “I decided to take a drive to clear my head and ended up here.” His gaze levels with mine and my eyes soften at the torment I see in them. “What are you doing here so late?” he asks, leaning against the window.
“I had a lot of work to do. Plus, the quiet helps me think.” My voice carries in the night as his gaze narrows and I wonder if he realizes I meant I was thinking about him. From the way his eyes continue to bore into mine, that fact didn’t escape him. “I saw the game tonight…” I murmur, trying to change the subject but realizing too late that it probably wasn’t a good idea to bring it up.
He visibly deflates as that unmistakable need to touch him takes over.
“I would expect nothing less,” he says, looking at the ground. “Who else would be able to tell me how to improve my game?” There’s a slight edge to his voice and when our eyes meet and his darken, I can’t tell if he’s angry at me or at himself. “Can I come in?” he asks, but I stand tall, not moving.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He shakes his head and lets out a deep breath.
“Why, because of those photos?” I don’t really want to talk about the photos, but they are always in the back of my mind. “I told you they meant nothing. She means nothing. She even followed me tonight after the game and threw herself at me.” He’s pacing now and it takes a few seconds for his words to sink in.
“What did you just say? She was there after the game?” He nods, stopping in front of me, his hands deep in his pockets. “Jesus fucking Christ.” I murmur.
“Harper, I don’t know how else to show you that she’s not who I want. My game is suffering because I can’t stop thinking about you and how much you hated seeing those pictures…”
“So you’re blaming me for your shitty play?” He takes a deep breath and shakes his head.
“Of course not. None if this is on you, it’s all me. But I want to remind you that after that shitty game I came here, to see you. Not Angela, you.” I close my eyes and try and fight the feelings that are coursing through my body.
When our eyes connect and I see the pain coursing through him I start to cave. Maybe it’s out of pity, or maybe it’s pure stupidity, but I step aside and motion for him to come in.
“How the hell do you get any work done around here when it’s pitch black?” he asks cautiously, taking every step slowly to make sure he doesn’t run into anything. Without thinking, I start to laugh.
“I’m used to it. I’ve been in this building since I was a kid, so navigating in the dark is almost second nature to me now.”
His footsteps echo in the dark room as we head farther and farther away from the front windows.
“That’s my office over there,” I say, pointing to the only room with light.
As we get closer, Josh’s fingers intertwine with mine, sending warmth straight through my entire body as I take a deep breath to try and
