Chapter 11 Sydney
ELEVEN
SYDNEY
“And this is the arcade,” Mitch says proudly, leading us through a set of double doors.
“We have everything from a state-of-the-art spaceship ride to a few vintage favorites for parents and grandparents.” He goes on, telling us all about the different games in the room, although I don’t understand a word.
But it gives me an opportunity to quietly address Steele’s attitude, which has been complete shit since we walked into the building.
He was somewhat agreeable when we were outside, but now he’s being a complete jackass with his quiet grunts and unimpressed one-word answers.
“What’s your problem?” I grit through clenched teeth, doing my best not to let my voice project over Mitch’s as I pretend to listen.
“Nothing,” he replies, his narrowed gaze remaining devoid of any type of emotion.
His posture is stiff, hands shoved into his pockets, and I can tell they’re clenched into fists by the way the veins in his biceps are protruding.
Normally, I’d sit back and appreciate the arm porn, but I asked him not to be rude, and he’s deliberately defying me.
“This is your best behavior?” I toss back. “Are you allergic to being a good person, or do you just genuinely enjoy being a dick?”
He turns his head in my direction, rolling his eyes. “Maybe I don’t like being a third fucking wheel. That guy was five seconds away from nailing you against the reception desk down there. He probably would’ve if I hadn’t cut in, so excuse me for not wanting to be here.”
My brows knit. “What? Mitch? He definitely doesn’t want to nail me. We grew up together. His dad was the physician for the team my dad coached when I was a kid. He’s like a brother to me.”
He drops his chin, giving me a look that says you can’t be serious.
We keep a small amount of distance between ourselves and Mitch, who’s still blathering on about the one-of-a-kind antique pinball machine they found at an estate sale.
“Sydney, I’m a guy. I know how we are. The way he held you and smelled your hair like a fucking stalker? He’s obsessed with you.”
“No,” I reply, shaking my head. “That’s not possible.
Why would he be?” We’ve known the Bennetts since before I could ride a bike.
I used to tag along with him and Livvy when they played together, but boys always liked her more than they did me.
She was the cool one who knew all about football, and on top of that, she was effortlessly beautiful.
I had to fight my way out of her shadow, only feeling seen by the people around us when I became her polar opposite.
I love my sister. She’s my best friend in the whole world, and I take every chance I can get to shout about the amazing things she’s accomplishing.
There isn’t a shred of jealousy between us, but I’ve always had to work harder to be taken seriously because she’s so good at what she does.
I’m just average, and unless I’m in a room with a submissive man at my feet, I’m never the main attraction.
“Why wouldn’t he be?” Steele replies with a harsh bite to his tone. I want to ask him to keep going—to tell me what he sees that I don’t—but before I can, Mitch cuts in.
“Pretty cool, right?” He slaps a hand against the glass, causing the machine to rattle. The thing sounds like it’s about to fall apart, but from what I caught of his excited speech, it’s a very big deal that they were able to bring it here.
“Mhmm,” I agree with a high-pitched hum, trying my best to make the saccharine smile that splits my face believable.
I feel like an asshole for not hearing a word of what he just said.
Mitch is a great guy and does amazing things for the community, but while I do find him attractive in a conventional way, I know we aren’t compatible.
He’s gentle and non-abrasive, whereas I’m not afraid to say what I’m thinking.
His hold has always been soft and familiar, but that’s not what makes my heart speed up, and my blood run hot.
I want a man who will drop before me when I ask him to, but who can also sense when I need to be challenged.
The problem is that I don’t even know what that looks like, so how could I expect anyone else to? Least of all, a nice guy like Mitch.
“Great!” he says with a grin. “Let’s move on to the family rooms, then we’re done.
” I nod, noticing the way his cheeks go slightly pink, and his eyes sparkle as he walks toward where Steele and I are standing.
His hand brushes the back of mine deliberately when he passes, causing me to go stiff for a moment.
Shit.
Was Steele right? Does one of my closest childhood friends see me as more?
I immediately go through every instance I can think of where I may have inadvertently led him on, but I can’t for the life of me come up with any.
He’s older by a handful of years, so there was a long stretch of time where he was away at college, or I was.
While we never had a particularly touchy-feely relationship when we were young, I welcomed it as we became adults, because he was always just Mitchy, the kid who used to help me climb trees and told my junior high bullies to back off.
“Yeah,” Steele mutters, shaking his head.
“Crystal clear now, isn’t it?” He trails after Mitch, and I follow, but my mind is still going a million miles a minute with everything that just happened.
Not only do I have this weird, anxious pit in my stomach when I think of my friendship with Mitch changing, but I also can’t stop Steele’s words from replaying on a loop.
Why wouldn’t he be?
I shouldn’t care, since he disrespected my family, team, and city.
But the need to understand the meaning behind his words continues to nag at me as we move through the freshly painted hallway.
I gave him a night that was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before, so it could certainly be as simple as that.
But the look in his eyes—the one that said I shouldn’t be shocked by the idea of a handsome, successful man wanting to be with me in real life—has me thinking otherwise.
It’s…confusing, and I don’t know what to make of it.
Mitch goes on, showing us the living spaces they’ve created for parents and children who are about to transition from hospital to home.
Each one is set up like a small apartment, with a kitchenette, double beds, and a private bathroom.
Steele acts like he’s listening intently, but I can tell by the way his hardened stare slides in my direction every couple of minutes that he’s struggling to stay focused, too.
“And that’s pretty much it,” Mitch says, his chin lifted with pride.
“Barring any major catastrophes, we’ll have our soft open in a few weeks.
I’ve got my fingers crossed that we’re able to raise enough at the charity ball to make these family suites available for free, at least for the first year or so.
Parents have enough on their plates as it is when they’re caring for sick or injured kids.
The last thing they need is another bill to pay. ”
I clear the lump in my throat, pasting on a smile. “What you’re doing here is truly amazing, Mitch. You should be so proud.”
His cheeks heat again, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks, Syd. Actually” —he looks over at Steele for a split second, as though he’s not sure whether to continue with him here, but decides to do it anyway— “I was going to ask if you’d like to accompany me to th—”
He’s cut off when a loud bang echoes in the distance, causing our heads to whip in its direction. It’s likely just one of the construction workers dropping something heavy, but it startles us for a moment, nonetheless.
I lay a relieved hand over my heart when I realize we’re not in danger, exhaling steadily as I return my attention to Mitch. “You were saying?”
“I have to go,” Steele interrupts, his voice no more than a frustrated growl.
“Thank you for having us, Doctor, but I have a prior engagement and can’t be late.
” The way he says the title has a bite to it that’s unmistakable as he nods tightly and turns away before Mitch even has a chance to respond.
My brows pull taut with confusion, my gaze bouncing back and forth between both men as Steele makes a beeline for the stairwell. I’m like a deer in headlights, with absolutely no idea what just caused that little outburst, or what I’m supposed to do about it.
“I’m,” I croak quietly, my tongue darting out to wet my dry lips, “really sorry about that. I better go, but thanks again for showing us around. I’ll see you at the charity ball.”
His face falls, lips pressing into a flat line as he nods weakly. “Yeah. I’ll see you there.”
And with that, I’m gone, hurrying after the giant man-child who just embarrassed the fuck out of me for absolutely no good reason.
I push through the exit that leads to the stairs, but he’s nowhere to be seen, the distant sound of a door closing indicating that he’s already reached the ground floor.
My muscles begin to catch fire as I shuffle down each flight, my feet a blur underneath me, while I do everything I can to get to the bottom before he drives away.
“Hey!” I shout the moment I step outside, watching as he grips the handle of his car door.
He pauses as soon as he hears my voice, but doesn’t look my way while I hurriedly eat up the space between us.
I immediately regret skipping cardio this week—okay, last week, too—because my lungs burn with every slap of my shoes against the asphalt.
“What the hell was that about?” I ask, coming to a halt about five feet away from him. “That was fucking rude, Steele. And embarrassing.”
He scoffs, letting his hand fall to his side as he turns toward me. “Sorry I embarrassed you in front of Doctor Douchebag, but we were done, anyway. No need for me to stand there like an idiot while he asked you out.”
My head rears back. “He wasn’t going to—” I pause, because fuck. Maybe Mitch was trying to ask me out. According to Steele, he sees me as someone he could potentially date, although I’m still not sure I fully believe it. However, we were talking about the charity ball, so he might be right.
“It was still rude to walk out like that,” I scold. “I was trying to make a good impression because this hospital is a big deal here. I also wanted to see how you act in these kinds of situations, so I know if I can trust you. Clearly, I can’t.”
His gaze casts downward, and I take a deep inhale, letting it out slowly.
“Look. I can’t change the way you feel about Cleveland or the Renegades, but I told my dad I’d help clean up your image.
You can fight me on it all you want, but if the fans hate you, you won’t have a job much longer.
So maybe it’s time to get that chip off your shoulder and turn your career around before it’s too late. ”
I can tell my words made him feel something by the way he swallows thickly, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. But he still doesn’t look at me as he nods. “Sorry. I’m just not good at any of this.”
“Obviously,” I mutter, and finally, he whips his darkened stare in my direction.
If I were his submissive, I’d probably be regretting my bratty retort with the way his nostrils are flared and his eyes are narrowed.
The fingers that wiggle at his sides tell me they’re itching to turn my ass red, which only makes me more defiant as I raise my chin to look at him.
“Next Friday. I’ll pick you up from practice. And if you try to pull any of that bullshit again”—I toss a thumb over my shoulder— “I’ll make you wish you hadn’t. Have a good night, Steele.”
Not giving him a chance to reply, I turn on my heel and head straight toward my car. He may be a pain in the ass and combative as hell, but I deal with brats like him all the time, and I’ll be damned if I let him top from the bottom again.
Steele Harlow needs to be put in his place, and as much as I thought otherwise when my dad and Livvy proposed the idea, I’m just the girl to do it.