Law #3: Don't Fall for the Athlete: Sweet Second Chance Romance (Laws of Love) by Agnes Canestri (black books to read txt) 📗

I peer up at him.

“You don’t want any celery,” I mumble.

A strange smile plays on his lower lip. “I’m not particularly keen on veggies, right now, no.”

There’s a hungry glint in his irises, but judging by the way he’s looking at me, I can tell that he couldn’t care less about my healthy snack suggestions.

“Then what would you like? Guacamole dip?”

He shakes his head. “No. I’m still thinking about what you said.”

My brows arch while a warmth cascades down my ribs.

I glance at my shoulder, and that’s when I realize Wyatt’s fingers are still clasping me.

He follows my gaze but doesn’t release me. “You said a kiss and make up is—”

“It was just a figure of speech,” I interject quickly, as my heartbeat shoots through the roof.

Wyatt smiles, his eyes dipping to my mouth. His ardent glance could light up a fireproof blanket. “You told me that certain semantic expressions can make us aware of what we truly desire. I think your figure of speech just did that to me.”

Seeing his yearning scares me because my soul mirrors his longing. Yet, I summon all my self-control and clear my voice. “Wyatt, let’s not do this.”

“Why?” he asks, and this time his hand moves to my chin. His thumb slides on my jawline, easy like a feather. “Tell me you don’t want it.”

The most exquisite thrills rush over my skin, and I can’t bring myself to protest.

“If this feels good, don’t fight it,” Wyatt says and moves forward.

I don’t want to listen to him or to the drumming in my chest. I want to listen to the cautious voice in my head that knows that committing the same mistake twice is the sign of a real fool, but I can’t because Wyatt’s lips close on mine and our skins melt together.

My doubts get crushed by the wave of passion that his breath liberates in me. His arms snake around my waist with the desperation of a choking man, and my mouth reacts to his desire with equal fervor.

His familiar smell envelops me, releasing my last blockades. I abandon myself to the sweetness of his caresses.

Wyatt takes my hand and presses it on his chest. He moves back only an inch so that his words are a hot stream of air on my mouth. “Let’s give us another chance, Ellie.”

His puzzling statement jars me out of the trance I’ve fallen into.

The thumping of his heart still reverberates on the tips of my fingers as I lower my hand and step back. “No, Wyatt. This isn’t right.”

“I say it’s the rightest thing in this whole darned world,” he murmurs, inching closer again.

“You don’t know what you’re saying. The chemistry between us is—”

He shakes his head. “It’s not just chemistry…” He pats his ribcage. “It’s more.”

“No,” I squeak.

“Yes. That’s why I want a second chance for us.”

“A second chance?” I try to wrap my head around the meaning of Wyatt’s words.

Wyatt smiles and nods. He seems convinced about what he just said, but I can’t trust him because the leery voice his kiss silenced is back and it’s screaming at me.

“You’re probably just confused,” I mumble. “I’m your therapist. It’s frequent in such a setting to think you’ve developed emotions for the person treating you and—”

Wyatt presses a thumb on my lips. “No, it’s not an eroticized transference.”

Before I can even wonder how he knows this term, he adds, “It’s all real. It’s always been real; I was just too much of a coward to admit it. Ellie, I lov—”

I grab his hand, tear it away from my mouth, and shake my head. “Don’t say a word more, please.”

“Why?” he asks, wide-eyed. “Why don’t you want to hear the truth?”

Because whatever you say, you might take it back in a phone call.

I couldn’t handle that. Not when the choking in my throat and the drilling in my chest show me that our kiss undid all the careful mind-training I practiced while forgetting how much I loved Wyatt.

I shift my arms behind my back. I roll my hands into fists so tight that the pain in my joints cuts through my mind’s haze. I can’t use the therapist argument, so I have to invent something else—even if it’s only a fib. “Because I can’t,” I blurt, before my heart can convince my head to surrender to its desire. “I’m dating Bill. You know that.”

“Bill?” Wyatt echoes. “But you only had one dinner with him. And it ended early, too. I didn’t think…”

If Wyatt is to believe this lie, I need to make it believable. I nod. “That’s right, but our evening went exceptionally well. Bill and I really…clicked. I guess it’s because we’re interested in the same things and have similar dreams about our future. In fact, I can’t wait to see him once we’re back in Phoenix.”

Wyatt narrows his eyes. “That’s why you kissed me?”

“You kissed me,” I snap. “I just let it happen.”

This excuse sounds as lousy as it did in my head.

Wyatt rubs his neck, a puzzled glint flashing in his eyes. “Ellie, if you’re afraid of what’s happening between us, I promise you, you don’t need to be. I’ll never again act like I did before. I won’t hurt you. I love you.”

When I only stare at him, he whispers, “Trust me, please.”

“Like you trust your father?” I say, but I regret my snap as soon as it’s out.

Wyatt winces like I’ve just slapped him. He recoils, and his shoulders hunch forward.

“Wyatt, wait…” I mumble. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to compare you to your father.”

He shakes his head. “It’s okay, I get it. You’ve got no more reason to believe me than I have to believe Dad.” His voice is sad, but there isn’t a hint of anger in it. “He might’ve broken my flesh a few times, but I’ve broken your heart, and I made you feel you didn’t matter.”

Guilt surfaces in me at his grieved tone, but I can’t deny he spoke the truth. “Yeah,