Page 85 of Scoring Eden

The annoying thing is that, despite all that, the ache in my chest hasn’t gone away. I thought it might fuck off if Eden wasn’t around, but no. It’s still there…this tight warmth wrapped around my heart that, if anything, is actively getting worse.

Roman raises an eyebrow. “Why did you freak out, man?”

“I don’t know.” I toe the asphalt with my cleats, head dipped in shame. “I just… I’ve been having this sensation…” Absentmindedly, I run my hand over my heart. “It got really bad after Eden and I were finished, and I didn’t know what it was. It scared me, I guess. It’s still scaring me, actually.”

He smirks, picking up the soccer ball lying on the grass between us and tucking it under his arm.

Practice ended ten minutes ago, and with the way I performed today, I may as well have not shown up at all. When Roman cornered me to ask—in his words—what’s wrong with my bitch-ass today, I folded like a lawn chair and told him everything.

“What is it that’s scaring you exactly?”

“I dunno, that I have heart disease or something.”

“All my friends are idiots.” The dickhead throws his head back and barks a loud laugh. “I can’t believe I’m in this position again.”

“What position?”

“Last year, I had to drop the bomb on Leo that he’d fallen in love with Brynn, and now”—he waves his hand in my direction—“I have to deal with your dumbass too.”

My forehead crinkles. “What are you talking about? The situations aren’t even remotely the same.”

“Really?”

“What are you implying?”

“That you had sex—no, sorry, that you did whatever you did—with Eden, and it made you realize that you’re falling for her, and it freaked you out.”

He’s wrong.

I’m not falling for her.

I can’t be falling for her.

Sure, I think about her all the time, and I can’t keep my damn eyes off her whenever she’s in the room, constantly tracking her like I’m a stalker watching from the shadows, obsessing over every little twitch of her fingers or the wave-like motions of her hair when she walks, but that doesn’t mean I’m falling for her. Wanting her and loving her are two different things.

Wanting is rooted in attraction, and attraction is safe. I’ve experienced attraction before. Admittedly, never to this extent, but it’s familiar to me. It’s manageable.

Love is…dangerous.

It’s a threat to every wall I’ve built around my heart, every coping mechanism I have, every brick I’ve put in place to protect the little boy inside of me who still grieves for what he lost.

“I’m not falling for her.” Even I can hear how weak those words sound as I squeeze them through my teeth.

Roman tosses the soccer ball into the air and catches it with one hand, his scrutinous gaze never straying from me. “Then what are you doing? Because from where I’m standing, you’ve found yourself in a shit-heap of mess and denial.”

All I know is that what happened at the house showing was pure instinct. It was like a fireball of impulse burning inside of me that forced me to say the things I did. The things that came after that, my mouth on her skin, my fingers inside her, the unbeatable craving for more, was no longer within the realms of my control.

“Do you have any plans to make your little fake relationship with Eden real?” Roman asks, the question igniting another small ache in my chest.

A relationship with Eden? A real one…where I can kiss her and hold her as much as I want to. Where I can trail my fingers down her face or press my lips to her forehead every time I get the urge to. Where I can touch her without having to check if there are cameras watching just to justify it. She’d come to my games and wear my jersey, not because it looks good to the investors and the media, but because she simply wants to be there for me.

We could hold hands while walking down the street and keep holding them once we’re inside and away from prying eyes. Macon could play in the yard of the new house with Ivy and Salem, just like I imagined when I saw it for the first time, and Eden and I could lie together on the couch as we watched them, her head on my chest and her hand on my heart.

“No.” I suck in a long breath through my nose, casting my gaze across the turf to make sure we can't be overheard. “I don’t want a relationship.”

Roman tilts his head to one side. “Would a relationship with her really be so bad? I mean, dude…” he sighs through a smile. “I saw you together at dinner. You looked like that fucking emoji with heart eyes every time you looked at her.”

A relationship with Eden wouldn’t be bad at all. It would be everything.