Rule No 1: No Strings Attached

e

't interest me.

e it. She'd slapped me in a freezing parking lot and then strolled off like I was nothing. That wasn't going to stand. There was something almost funny about it, if I let myself th

e gym, because that was the only pl

ng and throwing easy shots, just finding our rhythm. The familiar smell of sweat and canvas, the creak under our feet - it was the one place where everythin

on and Miller grinned behi

loose and strong, until

ear every detail of Miller's breathing - each inhale, the tiny catch in his exhale - from eight feet away. The squeak of his shoes on the canvas, the buzz of the fluorescent lights, the distant thump of a speed bag

happeni

ettle. My own breathing grew ragged. My vision flickered at the ed

d his guard.

t admitting something was wrong, and I wasn't

next jab, something raw and uncontrollable surged through me, something that didn't feel lik

n it landed w

ad quiet, and for one horrible second, all I could hear was my own hear

dropped through my stomach, heavier than anything I'd felt in years. The trainer rushed in and called it immediately. Miller eventually sat up, loo

itching like something underneath it wanted out. I'd brushed it off as stress, told myself it was Harrison's class, the scouts, my father, anything that made sense. But

hroat, where something had bitten me weeks ago

ir

watching. Without a word, he dropped a thick folder through the ropes. Papers scattered

em up,"

t and shamed sitting low in my ch

e this?" He jabbed a finger at the papers. "You fail Harrison's class and you're done. No championship bout. No elig

lowly pretended to

his jaw, looked across at me. "

uttered, and I meant it

not been yourself lately, Man,

ps responding to stuff I don't know, I... I'm sorry for the punch." It was as close as I'd come t

as hell. She lives in the library, and she'd actually understand Harrison's class.

mmune to ath

n hanging around the team for years and never batted an eyelash at any of us. If

e flashed back, sharp and strangely satisfying a

easier to wear than whatever I'd a

d. "Go grab lunch w

t? W

ll and heading toward the study lounge. "I n

ad for something, anything, to

ner table in the library, surrounded by open books and tiny, pr

ace went flat, unsurprised

e an apolo

looking back at her notes. "You read my private l

hit

eserve

oing to help. I leaned forward, my elbows on the table. "I n

own and looked at

itation, the negotia

uesting a new project partner. I

, something about the way she said

doing here? This

thout waiting, and leaned forward, resting my thick forearms on the table. "

eone to help you with your homework, you're in the wrong

o many distractions. I need an expert. And according to the d

a test, your coach threatened you, and now you want me to do your dirty work

r night." I smirked, watching her freeze for just a second,

voice was softer now. "Brooks and his p