Page 18 of The Sweet Spot

“Sure.”

She quickly cleaned the muffin tin and headed for the door. I met her there because I couldn’t let her go home being pissed off or upset, even though I didn’t know which it was.

“I’m really sorry about being so nosy earlier. I shouldn’t have done that. It was totally stupid and thoughtless of me.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

I reached out to touch her hand, and she flinched. I yanked my hand away. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she said quickly. “I’m going to head out. See you in the morning.”

I had no idea what had just happened and why my touch had upset her so much. Did she hate me already?

Chapter Eleven

Wolseley

Ihad no idea why I’d reacted that way when Brandon reached out to touch me. He was being nice, and I’d reacted as if his touch had been radioactive, mostly because it sort of had been. It felt like an electric shock traveling through my body. For a split second, I was questioning everything about my life. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken the job because I now had a massive crush on Brandon Warde, and in no universe was that going to lead to a happy ending. Brandon chased the Tangis of the world, not the Wolseleys.

I hated getting down on myself, and I was the first one to champion women’s empowerment and self-love, but I had no self-love for myself. Of our three-woman crew of BFFs, Tangi was the sporty and gorgeous one, Jill was the cool, hot chick every guy wanted to conquer, and I was their friend. The one who hung around with them, the perfect female friend for any guy. Sometimes, I got the “cute” moniker, but anywhere men had pulses, they would take Jill or Tangi over me. How many times had we hung out, and guys had hit on them and barely noticed I was there? Too many to count. And Brandon wouldbe no exception, especially after the way he felt about Tangi. Who was I kidding? I attracted assholes like Daniel. Guys who smelled desperation or wanted a good time. They viewed me as fun, the last girl at the bar to get picked up, but “I’d do.” Every one of my relationships had either been short, a disaster, or based on sex. And all the guys I wanted the most wanted Jill or Tangi instead.

These thoughts kept me up until late into the night, and at the end of the day, I had two options: accept that my crush would be unrequited and do my damn job, or quit and try to find another job. While I showered and changed and headed out the door for Brandon’s place the next morning, I chose option number one because I needed the damn job, and I’d worked with men I’d had massive crushes on before. Why would this be any different?

Brandon gave me a key so I could come and go easily. Every time I let myself in, I’d announce that I was there if his bedroom door was open, just in case he was doing something he didn’t want me to see. Otherwise, I would start on my day as quietly as possible while he slept. I was about to go through my same routine today, but he was already awake and scrolling through his phone on the sofa. His dark brown hair was wet, and his cologne or bodywash left an intoxicating scent in his wake, as if it were wrapping me up in a warm woodsy-scented blanket.

“Hey,” I said as cheerfully as possible. “I hope you weren’t waiting for breakfast?”

“No,” he said with a smile. “Just got up and showered. Today will be a lighter day. Lots of meetings with my coach and teammates.”

“Let me get breakfast started.”

“I made coffee. Help yourself,” he called out after me.

Step one of working while crushing was done. I’d said hello,and there was no awkwardness from the previous night. Step two was to just forget about it, and since it was a light day, I made him a hearty breakfast of eggs, turkey bacon, whole grain toast, and a fruit salad. He didn’t need lunch today, so I’d spend the rest of the morning doing groceries, prepping more snacks, including my protein Snicker-like bars, and then making him a heavy-carb dinner. Pasta was on the menu, along with a fish I hadn’t yet chosen.

I poured myself coffee and got to work. As the bacon cooked, I made a grocery list and wondered if he liked bagels. I’d ask him because I had a kick-ass recipe that wasn’t as heavy as the usual bagels. My meal plan included four days of meat-based proteins a week, with plant-based proteins the rest of the week. He’d also requested more carbs, so I planned to incorporate those into dinners.

“Breakfast is ready,” I said, plating his over-easy eggs, turkey bacon, toast with coconut butter, and fruit salad. I put a carrot protein muffin on the side in case he was still hungry. I was packing his snack pack for training camp when he took his plate from me and sat at the kitchen island to eat.

“Need anything else? I have more bacon and can make more eggs and toast.”

“This is good,” he said.

As he ate, I scrolled through my list, making sure it was complete. I was sipping coffee and adding more items to it when he threw a question at me that nearly toppled me over.

“About yesterday, sorry about that. I shouldn’t have touched you without asking. That was out of bounds. And the way you reacted to it, I’m sorry about that too. Has a man been inappropriate with you?”

The pen in my hand made a scribble when I gasped. “Excuse me, what?”

“I’m trying to be delicate and not rude, but has someone hit you? You know, been physically abusive?”

His blue eyes stared at me intently, and I didn’t know what to make of what was happening. “No,” I managed to finally utter. He’d made quite the leap from what had happened the night before.

“It’s just the way you reacted. Usually, it’s because a person doesn’t want to be touched.”

Since he had crossed so many lines with his questions and comments, I figured I could do the same, not out of malice but more out of curiosity. “Have you been abused? I’m not understanding where that came from. Usually, when someone says something like that, it’s based on experience.”

He and I were doing some kind of strange dance, trying to figure out who had what experience. Was he concerned for me because suddenly I was concerned for him? I’d heard about athletes being abused emotionally, physically, and sexually by coaches and other people of authority. Was Brandon a victim?