“You couldn’t make it through one of my workouts, much less practice. You have no clue what a D1 athlete’s life is like.”
“I know you had time to let two girls distract you from being on time. Like the whole world revolves around you.”
He drops his head then raises it with what seems like a sympathetic smile. Parker lowers his voice. “I knew this was about the girls. You hate it that I don’t have to grind to get attention from the opposite sex.”
Something cracks inside me, but he’ll never hear me admit it.
“Since I know you’re a professional know-it-all, you should know I grind every day.” His voice gets even softer. “Every day.”
“Yeah, on the field.”
“Everywhere.”
Sighing, I shake my head. “I’m done Parker.” His name sounds different when I say it. Almost sad that I won’t see him anymore.
He studies me for an extra beat. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do.”
He steps around the table into my personal space. Too close for comfort. I’m not blind. He’s hotter than Vegas in the summer.
“You don’t think I’m taking this seriously?” he says more like a question.
“I don’t think you’ve ever had to work hard for anything. Never had anything you loved ripped away from you. That’s what I think.” I pop my hip just to be extra.
His eyes narrow and his eyes flicker with something that I can’t put my finger on.
No retort.
No sarcasm.
Good.
Finally, he says, “I’ll find another tutor.”
“Good.”
But my chest closes in like I just took a wrong turn and don’t know how to get back.
“I don’t need someone psychoanalyzing me anyway.” He picks up his backpack, slings it over his shoulder and walks away without hesitation. Without looking back.
TWO
PARKER
Who needs a five-foot-five physiology major with a superiority complex?
Not me.
I walk out of the library with my jaw clenched so tight it aches.
She’s a quitter. She quit because I was late.
No. She quit because she thinks I don’t work hard.
No, she quit because she’s jealous of the girls who walked into the library with me.
The thing about Annika?