Chapter 25: 25

August's POV

I followed her into the break room. She hadn’t even looked back at me once, just stormed off like I’d actually injured her out there. Or did I?

“Are you good?” I asked quietly.

“Go away,” she muttered. "I told you I needed a moment."

“Dona—”

“Don’t!” She snapped. "Just don't!"

Then she grabbed her water bottle from the table and unscrewing it like she wanted to twist the damn cap off. “You play too rough!”

I frowned. “It’s basketball. If you don’t like body contact, then don’t play at all.”

She turned to face me with her eyes flashing. “That wasn’t contact! That was you—” She stopped, biting down on her lip. Then she shook her head again and continued to drink from the bottle.

“What? Me what?” I pressed, taking a step closer.

She pulled away from her bottle. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does, actually,” I replied. “You’ve been looking at me like I’m the villain all night. If you wanna yell, yell. Don’t just storm off like a brat.”

Her head whipped up again. “I’m not a brat!”

“Then act like it!”

She started toward the door, but I wasn't having any of that. In a flash, I grabbed her hand, fingers wrapping around her wrist. She paused and stared down at where our skin touched, like I’d burned her.

“Let me go, August!” She growled.

“Not until you tell me what’s going on with you.” My grip on her hand wasn’t tight, but I wasn’t letting go either. “One second we’re fine, and then the next you’re looking at me like I have a contagious disease.”

She yanked once, then glared up at me. “You are a contagious disease!”

Her quip forced a laugh from me. “If I was, you wouldn’t be alive right now.”

She opened her mouth like she wanted to deny it, and out of the blue I couldn’t stop staring at her mouth. My brain screamed don’t, but my body didn’t give a shit.

Next thing I knew, we collided again, and our lips crashed together.

Dona tasted like sweat from the game mixed with the faint trace of the lasagna we ate earlier. My free hand went to her waist, pulling her closer before I even realized I was doing it.

She shoved at my chest, but not to push me away, just to grab handfuls of my shirt like she needed something to hold on to.

“Dona...” I muttered against her mouth, but I couldn’t stop kissing her. I didn’t want to.

She gasped when my tongue brushed hers, and the sound just wrecked me. I pressed her back into the wall, my body caging hers in. One hand still clutched her wrist while the other traveler to the small of her back. She fit there too perfectly, like my hand had been made for that spot.

She tugged my hair hard, but all it did was make me kiss her harder.

“This is wrong...” she breathed, breaking the kiss for half a second.

“Then stop me.” I dared her.

Her answer was her mouth crashing back into mine.

The kiss wasn’t pretty. It was messy and hot and desperate, all teeth and clashing lips and too much pent-up frustration. Every time we pulled back for air, we dove right back in like we were starving. Her thighs brushed mine, and I groaned low in my throat, my forehead pressing to hers.

“God, Dona…” I muttered, my breathing ragged.

Her hazel eyes were wide, and the pupils were blown. “We shouldn’t—”

I cut her off with another kiss, because if she finished that sentence I might actually listen, and I didn’t want to. Not now.

She bit my lip, and I let out a sharp hiss. My hand tightened at her waist, pulling her flush against me. The heat of her body against mine was maddening.

And then, just as fast as it started, reality came crashing down. I felt it before she shoved me back hard enough that I gasped. The second our mouths tore apart, silence swallowed the room.

Her eyes were huge and glassy, panic flooding every part of her face. I didn’t need a mirror to know mine looked the same. My pulse hammered like I’d just run suicides, and my throat felt raw even though I hadn’t said a word.

“We can’t!” She whispered. “We can’t do this. We’re...”

“I know, I know!” My hand was still on the wall next to her head. I jerked it back like it burned me. “I know.”

It was wrong, I knew it and she did too. But the worst part, the part that made me want to punch a hole through the wall, was how much I wanted to do it again.

Her face twisted like she could read my thoughts, and that was when she shoved me backwards.

“Don’t!” She snapped, shoving past me. “Just… don’t do that shit again.”

“Dona!”

But she was already gone. The door slammed behind her and I stood there, staring at the empty space she’d left. My hands curled into fists, not out of anger at her, but at myself. What the hell had I just done?

I dragged both hands down my face, groaning. “Stupid. So stupid.”

When I finally pushed myself away from the wall and walked out, I looked around, half-expecting to see her pacing or sulking on the bleachers. But she wasn’t there.

I jogged outside the sports complex, hoping maybe she’d cooled off enough to wait for me by the car. Nothing. Parking lot was empty except for a couple of old sedans and my beat-up black truck.

“Great!” I muttered under my breath.

She had walked out alone, when it was almost sunset. She was that desperate to get away from me.

I leaned against the hood of my truck, my head tipped back toward the dark sky. I should’ve stopped. I should’ve let her walk out without grabbing her like that. I should’ve pretended I didn’t see the way she looked at me on the court. But I hadn’t, and now she was gone. And the worst part was knowing that if she walked back right now, I’d probably kiss her all over again.