![]() ![]() “Time’s up, Turner,” McCoy yells, and I let out a breath. Just as he’s about to say something, a buzzer goes off and the guys all push away from the ropes. And that thought makes me a little angry.Ĭaptain stands and moves to the other side of the ring, watching me. It doesn’t feel like he’s letting me win it feels like he’s trying not to touch me. Going down and taking the loss without really fighting back. Instead of making a grab for me or getting us tangled up in one another, he deflects all my moves and blocks me when possible. But it’s not the same as when he’s the one doing the touching. ![]() I was anxious to get in the ring because I knew this way I could put my hands on him. I’ve heard that more times than I want to remember over the years. He went back home and thought everything out and has changed his mind. Maybe now that he’s had a taste he doesn’t want any more. Normally he’ll find ways to touch me and I’ll pull away, but now that I welcome it, it’s not coming. All day he’s kept his distance, and it’s eating me alive. Instead of bringing it up, I decided to play it cool and pretend that my body wasn’t screaming for his touch as we worked out. But when he didn’t, I let it go, not wanting to make it seem like it was a big deal. ![]() I’d waited―hoped, actually―for him to mention the breakfast he left for me. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |