He lowered his head towards me, a cocky grin spreading across his lips as he raked his eyes across my body before landing them back on mine.
I clicked my tongue in annoyance before averting my eyes, ignoring the blush that threatened to run across...
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CHAPTER TWENTY BLOODY CELEBRATIONS!
[ PART III ]
I DON'T KNOW FOR HOW LONG WE STAYED LIKE THAT.
Theodore with his head tucked in my neck, and my legs swinging every moment or so to bring back the rush of blood. By the time he pulled away, my knees were numb with pain but my vision no longer swirled and I was no longer drunk. Or rather, more sober than I was minutes ago.
He raked his eyes over my face, tongue prodding at his cheek as he trailed his fingers over my face. Without the alcoholic confidence boost, I found myself flustered under his gaze, averting my eyes in favor of staring down at his spare hand. I twirled around the ring that dressed his thumb, running a broken nail over the cool metal.
"Look at me, Mara." He softly called, tipping up my chin with his thumb and pointer finger. It was unfair, really, the way he towered over me. How he could make my stomach explode in butterflies at the sight of him shielding me, protecting me.
"Give me a name."
"And have you start a fight? No." I mused, trying for a joke but he didn't laugh. "I'm serious, Theo. There's no point in getting benched after you just got back onto the field. I can't let that happen. I won't."
He didn't laugh. He didn't do much of anything except stare at me.
He slowly softened at the look on my face, biting his lip as he took off the ring on his thumb. Theodore took my hand in his."It hurts. Seeing you like this, trying to smile through the pain and pretend it doesn't hurt." He slid it down my thumb, it was a little too loose so he replaced it with my middle finger.
"And it'll hurt me, seeing you sitting back on that bench. The next match isn't practice, Theo. There will be sponsors and maybe even scouts, and . . ." I trailed off, hesitant to go on but he hummed, hands tight on my waist. He was telling me to continue but I didn't know how. "You're good. Very good."
He smirked, tipping his head down at my confession. "Really, how good?"
I stared at him, blank-faced. Knowing that if I didn't, I'd crack. And he couldn't win. "Super good — which is why you can't ruin your chances by beating a couple of kids half to the death."
"Half? You underestimate me."
"You're not really helping your case."
He cleared his throat, hand on his heart and a serious look on his face. "I promise to be gentle, scouts honor."
I laughed, fighting the wince lest I remind him of my pain. That was a lie. Theodore was anything but gentle. The last time I'd seen him fight someone, he came out with bruised knuckles and bloody teeth. Looking like the perfect image of unhinged.
