See No Evil - Ivy Fox Page 0,74

turn soft as he looks down at me, only adding to my dread, making me swallow dryly.

“I’m going to miss this next week,” he hushes, running his thumbs over my cheeks, keeping my head in place so that my eyes never leave his.

“Oh? Are you going someplace?”

He shakes his head, his shoulders slumping a bit.

“The Sharks have their first game on Saturday. Training is going to be brutal for the next couple of days, so I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to come over and see you as much as I’d like.”

“See me? Or fuck me, quarterback?” I cock a brow teasingly, trying to lighten the solemn mood he’s just created.

“Seeing you. Being with you. Fucking you. I’m going to miss it all,” he admits, running his thumb over my lip, watching my mouth intently.

My chest begins to feel heavy and constricted, so I playfully push him aside to get some well-needed space. I walk over to the table beside us and start placing the chairs upside down on it, resuming what I should have been doing in the first place—which was preparing to get the bar locked up—all the while making sure my back is turned from his melancholic expression, so he can’t see how it affects me.

“You do you, Finn. You know where to find me.”

My beating heart is pounding so hard, it makes the silence between us that more unbearable. Just when I’m about to go over to the next table, I feel his warm arms envelop me in an embrace from behind, his chin nestling on the crook of my neck.

“I was thinking that maybe after the game, I could pick you up and we could go out.”

I feel my whole body stiffen, and so does he.

“We could do it next Thursday, on your night off, if that’s the problem,” he adds, misreading my reaction.

“I’m good,” I coolly reply back.

He spins me around, his hands on my waist keeping me from toppling over.

“You’re good?! What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I don’t do dates.”

“Ever?”

“Not while class is in session, pretty boy.”

“You can fit me in. You have for the past couple of weeks,” he replies with a cocky smirk tugging at his lips.

“A quick fuck isn’t the same thing as dinner and a movie. I have no time for it,” I reply sternly, crossing my arms over my chest so that he sees I mean business.

He takes two steps away from me, his features taking a scowl of their own as he mimics my stance.

“No date, no sex.” He utters the ultimatum as if it were his winning trump card against this argument.

“Please, as if you could ever follow through on that threat.”

“Try me,” he deadpans, resolve ingrained in each of his beautiful features.

I roll my eyes at his cockiness and shake my head.

“Not happening. Dating isn’t on the table,” I retort with the same stubbornness.

“Then neither is this,” he replies stoically, pointing to his sculptured physique.

“Fine. Have it your way. So, this has been fun, but I’ve got shit to do,” I say, going back to the task of cleaning this dump and turning my back to him once more.

I feel his eyes on me as I wipe down another table, but he doesn’t say a word. I try to act cool as the silence prolongs, but I really wish he would just leave so I could do my job in peace without his presence looming over me.

“See you around, quarterback,” I mumble, hoping he takes the hint.

The beat of my heart pounds in sync with each passing second that I have to endure his silence. Luckily for me, Finn isn’t just a pretty body and face. He’s got plenty of brains to go with all that heavy artillery.

“Call me when you change your mind,” he hollers at the door.

“Don’t hold your breath,” I rebuke, not once looking up at him.

“I won’t need to. You’ll miss me soon enough.”

“Not likely,” I answer, feigning boredom and cleaning the damn table just a little bit faster, all the while wishing he would just go already.

“You will, Stone. You just don’t know it yet.”

I scoff at that, but when the asshole finally leaves, I throw the damn cloth to the floor.

I hate the feeling that pretty boy might know something I don’t. That somehow, he is more in tune with my inner workings than I am. And that frightens me more than his absence ever will.

“Good riddance,” I mumble to the empty

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