After grabbing the notes and changing into sweatpants and an old shirt, I headed back to the kitchen to see Brock sitting near my computer. “What are you doing?”
“Oh, hey. I was doing an extra search on your computer for the project. Sometimes they end up in the downloads file.” He scrunched his nose but shook his head. “No luck.”
“Thanks for trying.” I sighed, joining him at the counter with all my notes and materials. “I feel hopeless. I don’t know where to start, and you don’t need to be here. Seriously.”
“I’m here because I want to be. End of discussion,” he said with a deep voice.
Okay, then. “I’ll calm my stubborn ass down and accept the help.”
“Good. Now, shut up. I’m typing.”
Chapter Fourteen
My eyes stung so bad—red, watery, and strained from looking at my laptop for hours on end. Everything in life happens for a reason, so my mother always said. Why did this have to happen?
“I think I’m going to warm up the coffee again.” Brock stood, wiping his hands over his face with an audible yawn. “You need a refill?”
I looked at my mug, empty, but the adrenaline from not passing this class was enough caffeine for me. “I’m good.”
“I forgot how much I don’t miss this shit.” He put the mug in the microwave, pushing himself up to sit on the counter. I took in his eyes, the bags under them and saw the clock read four thirty in the morning. We had to be at work in five freaking hours.
“Brock, words cannot tell you how much you’ve helped me tonight. You’re amazing. A freaking life saver. But, you can go. You look exhausted, and we have work soon.”
“Grace, you’re not coming in.” His face twisted. “I know you won’t like my answer, but too damn bad. Your education is significantly more important than one day at the internship.” He shook his head, biting his bottom lip. “You need to finish this.”
“I can do both. I’ll—”
“No. I hate to play this card on you, but I’m vetoing you.” He narrowed his eyes and set his jaw in determination. “I can find the contract I have with the school. Technically speaking, I can tell you to stay here. Don’t force me to play dirty.”
I eyed him, then nodded, covering my own mouth with a yawn. “Although I hope to never say this again, you’re right.”
He grinned, lazily, and grabbed his mug from the microwave. I rubbed my temples at the pounding there and went through the stack of notes and lists we had accumulated over the five hours we had been working. “Come to think of it, I might even take a half day tomorrow.”
“Can you do that? Whenever you want?”
“I guess, yeah. There is never a slow day during the season, but it’ll be a film day for the offense and morning practice for defense. I’ll head in and make sure nothing happens. But this afternoon? Hell no. I can leave because no one will be practicing, thus, no risk of injuries happening. Plus, one of the part-timers will be there for ice.” He sipped the coffee, grabbing the nearest book. “You have your sources all listed on notecards, right?”
“Yeah. I think. I left them somewhere.” I pushed my chair out, standing up and looking at the mess on the table. It all blurred together, my eyes straining passed any point I had ever experienced. I reached over Brock’s arms, seeing the stack of notecards buried under textbooks. Our arms brushed, but it was enough to send a thrill through me. Geesh. I was exhausted if an arm touch got me all hot.
With my luck they had probably vanished. “There they are. Everything is starting to look the same.”
“You should get some sleep.” His rough voice quieted, his hand going on my upper back. It made small circles, feeling all kinds of amazing. His large hands worked on players every day. I was no different. “You can get up early, refreshed and with a sound mind.”
“Mm,” I said, sitting back down with my eyes closed. “Damn, that feels good.”
“You’re tense. Understandably so. But, you feel like a board back here.” He continued with his hand, kneading and hitting my muscles in the exact spot where it felt oh so good, and oh so painful. I grounded my teeth, welcoming both sensations. “Face the window for a minute.”
I turned, my back and neck entirely exposed to him as he added a second hand to the massage. One went to my neck, squeezing and rubbing the spot that connected my neck to my back. It. Felt. So. Good.
The other went up and down my spine, pushing into the muscles on either side and began undoing the knots that formed throughout that night. I jumped, the sensation almost too much. Those hands worked on my shoulders, squeezing and rubbing down the tops of my arms. I shivered, a small moan escaping my mouth. He froze and let go within a second.
“Grace, get some rest.”
I cleared my throat, turning around to meet his eyes. Those baby blues gleamed at me. They were easy to get lost in, and words suddenly seemed hard. My thoughts were not coherent as I was exhausted and worried, turned on and giddy. I nibbled my lip, his gaze darting to it with flared nostrils. His eyes remained there for one second, then another. I held my breath, desperate for whatever he wanted to give. “I should probably go. You look like you’re about to pass out.”
I nodded.
Neither of us attempted to move. Our knees touched, his strong and large legs dwarfing mine. His hands slowly cupped my face without breaking eye contact.
My heart beat widely.
He moved his head toward mine, and my lips tingled with anticipation.
I closed my eyes and waited.
Something metal jingled on the table, and I opened my eyes to a small smirk.
His hand reached out behind me to grab keys on the counter, and I deflated.
“Uh, want coffee for the ride home?”
“Sure. It would help not falling asleep at the wheel.”
I pushed off the chair and felt slightly smug at how raspy his voice was. It was the only sign he felt anything around me. Best friend? Please. I never had these types of thoughts about Gilly or Fritz, and they were my best friends. I grabbed an old Harry Potter themed mug and filled it with some java. He watched me with those intense eyes. I smiled as I handed over the mug.
“Thank you.” He held it up. “This will help.”
“If anyone deserves thanks, it’s you.” I gave him a pointed stare just as the front door crashed open. I jumped and slammed my hip into the corner of the counter. “Shit.”
Brock moved to stand in front of me as Fritz wobbled down the hall whistling in a drunken stupor. Fritz stumbled upon us in the kitchen and glared at Brock. “Grace girl, why’s he here?”
“Fritz. How did you get home?” I walked up to him, checking his eyes. He was three sheets to the wind. Great.
“I took a cab, sweet Grace. I would never drink and drive. Nope. Never. Sad. Stupid. Fucking wrong.” Fritz swirled on one foot to point at Brock. “Why are you here?”
“Fritz, look at me.” I directed his attention back to me for two reasons. One, Brock looked pissed at him, and two, I didn’t want Fritz spilling anything to Brock. My crush, for example. “My major project, you know the one I’ve been working on?”
“The pictures and shit?” he slurred, still giving Brock the mean eye.
“Yes. That one.” I stood closer to him, and he slung his arm around me. “It deleted. I have to redo the entire thing.”
“No!” he yelled, almost making us both fall. “How? You’re…Grace. You’re always prepared.”
“I know, I know.” I sighed, risking a glance at Brock who stood with a somber look. His gaze was directed at Fritz’ arm hanging from my shoulder, but I didn’t have time to worry about that. “Brock was helping me. He’s taken this class before.”
“How noble of him to help you,” Fritz slurred his words again, sliding across the floor. “Want me to babysit him for you?”
“I’m good. Go to bed.” I pushed him off me and directed him to the stairs. “Go.”
“Yes, Gracie. Only because I love you.”
/> “I love you too, baboon.” I smiled, getting a huge bear hug from him. “You’re going to hate yourself tomorrow.”
“Do or do not. There is no try,” he said, not making a lick of sense.
I laughed, turning back to face Brock to see his head tilted at me.
“What’s with the face?” I opened the front door, holding it for him.
“Am I an awful guy?” His mouth turned down in a frown, the seriousness of the question combining with my delirium.
I laughed. I laughed really hard, leaning against the door.
His frown deepened, fueling my hysteria.
“Sorry. Oh my. I’m sorry.” I got out between laughs. “It’s just that, yeah. You can be an asshole. We take three steps forward and five backward. Tonight, you took twenty steps forward, but I never know how you’re going to be.”
“I don’t like that answer.” His mouth flattened. It opened and closed again, but he didn’t say anything else. He walked to the door, giving me a curt nod before stepping outside. I went to say goodbye, but he spoke again. “I hope you know I’d do anything for you.”
I gulped and couldn’t form an appropriate response before he waved and left. His words were heavy and made my chest feel a little funny.
“I have to work now. Go away.” I shoved the earbuds in, hoping Gilly and Fritz would get the hint. But did they? Nope. They took seats at the table the next morning with their own laptops and gabbed about stupid drama. I had gotten pretty good at tuning them out, but when they started talking about Anderson, I paused my music. “You two are relentless, aren’t you? He helped me with a project, like a good mentor. That’s it.”
Gilly put her head on her hands and batted her eyes. “Did you guys do it?”
“No. God.” I hated how my face burned with embarrassment. “Friend-zoned, remember?”
“Slow down!” she said, mocking me as joy filled her eyes. “If he really stayed here that late helping you, it’s a big sign, girlie.”
“He says things that make me question everything, then shuts it down. He told me he would do anything for me. He massaged my back when I was tense. And, he stayed here for hours on end to help me. But, we are just friends.” I sighed, shaking my head. “It’s all confusing.”
“Not that I have any say here, but feelings tend to be confusing until someone admits how they feel,” Fritz said, causing Gilly and I to give him weird looks. He never talked about feelings, ever.
“Wow, Fritz. That was insightful.”
“I’m not just incredibly good looking. I have stuff going on in here, too.” He pointed to his chest and laughed at his own joke before standing up. “You deserve to be happy, Grace. I’ll probably hate any guy you fall for regardless of who he is, but if Anderson makes you happy, then wouldn’t it be worth trying?”
I frowned. “He said nothing would ever happen though.”
“Actions always speak louder than words.” He stood and shrugged. “At least, that’s what I’ve experienced.”
I shared a look with Gilly, and we both snickered at how sentimental Fritz was. She reached out and put a hand on his arm. “You okay, bro?”
“Jazzy. Can’t a guy want the best for the two most important ladies in his life?” He made a pointed face at both of us before heading down the hall. “I’m going for a run. Feel free to talk about how great I am.”
I threw a pencil at him and got a middle finger as a response. “I hate it when he makes sense.”
“I know.” She groaned but her annoyed face changed when she eyed my phone. “Oh, looks like someone is coming over. Again. After staying here all night.”
I quickly yanked my phone from the table and ignored the instant butterflies exploding in my stomach.
Brock: I’ll bring pizza for lunch. Don’t argue.
Grace: Okay then.
If he was coming over, then I needed to make more progress on the project. Thus, my cram session from hell began. Notes, sources, highlighters and note cards blurred together as I began the start of the fifty-slide presentation. I had pictures saved on my phone from the internship and the types of injuries dealt with. Airdrop saved my life. After three straight hours, my back ached, my eyes burned, but I had a good three quarters of the project done. I stretched, taking a quick shower to wake up for round two. If I was going to work all day, I was going full comfort mode—baggy sweats, an old Bulls sweatshirt, and hair in a ponytail. I put on a pair of my favorite fuzzy socks, a tradition my mom and I always had. My throat burned as I thought of her and what she would think of me right now.
Would she be proud? Happy? Would she tell me I was doing the right thing with Brock? Would she call me careless and unfocused? I never had much fun in high school. It was always work and taking care of her when she got sick. Before that, it was therapy to help my knee.
“Get the door, G!” Gilly yelled from her room, causing me to jump. I hadn’t heard anything but ran down the stairs to check and saw the massive outline of Brock holding a pizza box. I smiled with a fluttering heart. I opened the door and took in the light in his eyes, as well as the exhaustion.
Actions speak louder than words.
“Hey, Brock. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until right now. Thank you,” I said, taking the box from his hands.
“Good. I had a feeling you hadn’t eaten. When you focus on something, nothing else really matters.” A small smile formed on his lips. “I got meat lovers. I took a chance.”
“Great freaking guess.” I motioned for him to come inside. “Holy shit, this smells good.”
He chuckled, running a hand quickly down my arm in such a sweet gesture. “I forgot how much you love food.”
“Your mistake, then.” I took a piece and took a huge bite, crossing my eyes. With the piece still in my mouth, I went to the fridge and grabbed two bottles of water. “Come on, you have some, so I don’t look like a total scarf hound.”
“Scarf hound?” He tilted his head just slightly.
“Ah, it’s something my mom always called me,” I said, the sadness of earlier creeping back in. “I’ve always had the metabolism of a teen boy, and when I would eat two or three burgers as a thirteen-year-old girl, she began calling me that. I realize now it could’ve done major damage to my self-confidence.”
“I love that you eat.” His blue eyes sparkled, reminding me of my favorite crayon color of all time—cerulean blue. He grabbed a piece of pizza but not before giving me a quick, heated stare. “No one should starve themselves to feel attractive. You’re perfect just the way you are. So, eat away. No judgment from me.”
I gulped, the food hard to swallow now at the way he was throwing compliments my way. I squeaked a small “oh” at him. “Well. I’m blushing now. Thanks.”
He laughed,then took a bite of the pizza and leaned against the counter in his gray running shorts and black pull over. That outfit, paired with a backwards hat, was the death of me. Well, maybe not me but definitely my morals. “How is your project coming? I worried about you.”
“Me? I worried about you!” I pointed at him, enjoying the perusal of his long torso. The pullover fit him tight enough to get the outlines of amazing muscles. “You got zero sleep last night. You have to be super tired. And you brought me pizza. You get a gold star for today.”
He set his piece down on a napkin and walked toward me. I gulped, backing into the counter. His eyes darkened, dropping down to take in my outfit. He laughed, bringing one of his hands up to my face. “You work so damn hard all the time. I enjoy helping you.”
Oh.
Okay.
Shit. That was a good line. A really good one. I bit down on my lip, my legs quivering with need at his proximity. He smelled amazing, and the need to run my nose along his neck was way too strong. His jaw tightened when I leaned toward him. “I am tired, but I wanted to get back here to see you. Once I got here, I forgot I was tired.”
I blinked. I blinked again, unable to find words. Those amazing blue eyes lingered near my mouth for
more than a minute, so long that I hoped I didn’t have pizza sauce on my face. “Is there something on my face?”
“Nope. You’re good.” He grinned, breaking the stare down and moving to sit at the table. “Did you get a lot done?”
Whiplash. Again. I shook the cobwebs from my head and joined him at the table. “Yes. I have about thirty different slides entirely completed. I need about twenty more, real life examples and sources on why it is or isn’t the best practice. But, I need a break right now.”
“Anything you want to do? I took off the rest of the day, so I’m all yours.”
Was it me, or did his voice drop in that innuendo? I gulped, avoiding his gaze. “I want to pound a couple more pieces of pizza and go on a coffee run. It’ll be another late night because I’m a perfectionist.”
“Done and done. Now, pound that pizza, woman.” He nudged his shoulder with mine, earning a laugh out of me. He dug into his pizza and held my gaze. I didn’t feel self-conscious, more confused as hell. Were we flirting? Was this best friends hanging out? Ugh. I hated this shit.
“So, how was it today?”
“Eh, it was okay. If you are wondering, I had about fifty people ask where you were. I’m beginning to wonder if they know I’m the one who actually works there all the time.” The tone of his voice let me know he was joking. His words warmed me. People missed me. That was pretty cool.
“I am awesome,” I said with a little shoulder wiggle. “What did you tell them?”
“To mind their own damn business.” He laughed, giving me a shocked look. “What?”
“That’s the old Anderson coming out again. You couldn’t have told them I was working on a project?” I asked between bites. “People appreciate the truth.”
“Sure, but how is it their business?” His brows furrowed, like he didn’t get how he was rude. “If I wanted to tell people, then I would’ve. I wanted to keep your business private.”
“Okay, then,” I said, sighing under my breath. “You’re…what’s the word—loyal. That’s it. You’re a loyal guy.”
Internship with the Devil (Shut Up and Kiss Me Book 1) Page 14