Chapter 14.

The gym is empty when Bella and I come out of the locker rooms. She stops by her bag to drink some water before turning around to face me. She stretches her shoulders. Cracks her neck. Swings her arms in front of her.

"Okay, so there are three main stunts you have to hit tomorrow," she starts. "A double-up toss, to cupie, preferably. Some people were showing off with a switch to left hand cupie before pop-off. That'll get you extra points and put you up there." She walks closer to me while I pull on my neck. "Then a one-arm rewind. Clean. Simple." For her, maybe. "And lastly, a hand-in-hand toss with immediate lib."

"Easy peasy," I say and she rolls her eyes at me.

"Don't worry about the Superman cupie. That was just Rosalie being mean. If you hit two of those three, there's no way you won't make mat. And I've seen you hit all three at practice. We just need to get the timing right."

I know I can do all of them, just not well enough or consistently.

"Let's start with a toss left cupie," she says and smiles.

"Yeah, right." I laugh because she's gotta be kidding.

"I'm serious. We're going to hit it first to the left."

"Why?" There's a reason it's my right arm, and right arm only, that fucking hurts. I can't do shit with my left. "I've never really held a clean left cupie. Let alone in a toss!"

"It doesn't matter. That's not the point." She waves me off.

"So, there's a point?" I ask teasingly.

"Yes." She sets her hands on those damn hips of hers again, and I groan. "You know when you try to rep something slightly over your max, so that your max feels lighter?"

"I don't do that."

"Well, it helps."

I crack all of my fingers, one by one, getting impatient.

"Are you going to re-tape your wrists?"

"Nah, they're fine."

"Cullen…"

"Swan…" I mimic her tone, and she grunts, turning around and heading back to her backpack. She returns with a roll in each hand, her purple wrap and the white tape. She takes my hands, one at a time, and meticulously wraps them first before taping them tightly, securing them.

My fingers itch to grab her, to plant my lips on hers. Luckily, she steps away from me before I do.

We practice toss cupies, with my left. She's doing everything right. She almost fucking levitates. But I can't hold it. Everything just feels awkward on my left.

I catch her every time though. She never even goes near the floor.

We pause for a second, and my hands are on my knees as I try to catch my breath when her fingers thread in my hair.

"You almost have it." Her tone is so fucking soft; it does things to me.

I stand up straight, and her hand falls to her thigh with a frustrated huff.

"Try dipping lower on your squat," she says, getting back to business. "We need more height on the toss. You're trying to use your muscles too much. If I drop to your chest level when you catch me, it's going to be hard for you to press my entire weight to full extension with your left only every time."

I know. I already feel it. My arm is burning.

"You have to trust me, too," she continues, her eyes intently on mine. "Let me jump. Use my jump. Okay?"

I nod and wipe the sweat from my forehead with my taped wrist.

She steps closer. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you."

"Close your eyes," she instructs.

"Swan—"

"Just close 'em."

I do as I'm told without as much as a peep, and then I feel her. I just feel her. Her presence. Her warmth. It envelops me. She reaches for my hands, bringing them up and in between us, before she intertwines her fingers with mine.

"Do you feel that?" She tightens her fingers around mine, a current of energy buzzing, transferring from her skin to mine.

"I feel everything." My voice comes out in barely a whisper. "Dammit, Swan, what are you doing to me?"

I hear her take a deep breath, and then she gives my hands a little shake, loosening her grip on my fingers. My hands flop to my sides as she lets them go.

When I open my eyes, she's staring at me, her eyes wide, trusting, and so fucking beautiful.

"I bet you could toss and catch me with your eyes closed." She smiles tentatively, her teeth trapping the corner of her bottom lip.

"Yeah, let's not try that."

She laughs a little, turning around and getting ready for our next try at the toss left cupie. When I clasp my hands on her hips, she taps her fingers on my wrists, three times, as usual. This time, I dip lower than before, using everything I possibly can from my squat. I loosen my grip on her hips, letting her jump. It flows better, and she fucking floats. My arm is extended as my fingers grip her shoes. I absorb with my knees, keeping my arm locked.

It works.

She squeals as she lifts her arms into a full V.

My first ever toss left cupie.

As I set her down, she turns and jumps on me. Her arms around my neck. Her legs around my waist. Her chest flush with mine.

"You did it!" She beams. I'm smiling too. I can't help it. I wrap an arm around her, holding her close to me.

I fucking did it.

We break apart awkwardly, and she fixes the hair behind her ears while I look down.

She's relentless though, and we get back to work immediately.

We try toss cupies on the right then, and it's just like she said: so much easier. We move up to double ups, which are all her and her skills. I just need to toss her up with a twist so she can do two 360-degree turns on her way up, and then I just need to catch her. It takes me a while to get the grip right, but she's able to stand on anything, on any part of my hand, with one or both feet.

She could probably walk on water.

We're in sync, our failed attempts forgotten. Nothing matters anymore, just hitting the stunts with her.

We do one-arm rewinds then, one of my favorite skills. It's an elite. It's very difficult since I have to toss her backwards and then I catch her…all with one arm. I get ready behind her, my hand on her lower back. I know better than to notice how my fingers span the entirety of her hips, from left to right, thumb to pinky.

The toss is a mess. I get no height. Her feet slip from my hand and crash onto my chest, knocking us both down.

I catch her, though. I do. Thank fuck. Landing painfully on my ass. I laugh out loud because I'm a fucking mess.

"Ow…" I say as she chuckles on top of me. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She gets up and extends a hand to me, helping me up. "What happened?"

"I don't fucking know," I lie.

I don't look at her hips anymore; I just look straight ahead as I crouch behind her, and we are able to get a few reps.

By the time we start doing hand-in-hands, I'm running on fumes. She looks tired, too. She's sweating, which is rare when we stunt. Her role is all about finesse. Technique. Not brute force like me.

The hand-in-hands are the most distracting. With her in a handstand on my palms, I have no way to avoid her. I have to look up at her. And she looks at me, too. I can't stand it. I pretend not to notice how her neck looks red and damp and the contrast of her dark hair is sticking to it. My arms shake under her; my left arm gives out, but she compensates by holding her weight in the opposite arm, helping me out so I can readjust.

She's so fucking good at it.

I'm shaking all over, but I hold her in place enough to count.

At my signal, I dip and push her up so she can flip forward with enough height to land with her feet on my hands. She sticks the landing, but I don't get a good grip, so she tilts to the side. I'm able to catch her, break her fall, and land on my side with her in my arms.

"Fuck, you okay?" I stare at the gym's ceiling, little stars splattered on my vision.

"I'm fine." She rolls off me and onto her back next to me. "You?" She's on her feet then, standing next to me. She reaches a hand down, but I shake my head, unwilling to move from the floor. That last fall was close, and I am not taking any more chances.

"I'm done," I say, trying to breathe. "I couldn't do one more, even if you begged me."

"Are you sure about that?" She clasps her hands on her hips, standing near my head, a teasing smile on her face. She's breathing harshly, which makes her abs tighten and my mind spin.

I think I whimper out loud. "Please, don't beg me."

"All right." She walks away, returning quickly with our water bottles in hand.

"Thanks." I sit up, still panting, and she hands me my bottle, sitting next to me. We stay there in silence for a while, chugging water and regulating our breathing.

"Did you get a chance to practice some of your tumbling passes for tomorrow?" Bella asks, turning to look at me.

"Jesus, you're worse than Coach Hale." I lean back on my hands, shaking my head at her.

She laughs then, loud and honest, and it fills the whole gym.

"They'll try you for that tomorrow too," she explains after calming down.

"I know."

"Your tumbling is solid, but I'm just saying, now that you're tired would be the time to try them out. If you can complete them tonight, you can do them any time under any conditions."

I stare at her for a bit too long. "Why are you helping me?"

"Why shouldn't I?"

"I don't know." I shrug, using my shoulder to dry the sweat trickling down my temples.

"We're friends, right?" Her lip twitches playfully, her eyes shining. "That's like all we are."

"Don't." I fight my smile because she's a tease and she will be the end of me.

She shakes her head, her face turning serious. "Why wouldn't I help you? You're the most hardworking person I know. You don't mess around…like ever. You take criticism well and use it to better yourself. You have so much potential."

"You could say that about most people on the team though."

"Uh...no." She laughs again, making me feel shaky. "You don't see yourself clearly, Cullen." She peeks at me from over her shoulder while wrapping her arms around her knees, her eyes drawing me in. "You're respectful. You're so gentle with me. You're funny. You're easy on the eyes too," she adds with a smile.

"Stop it." I chuckle, staring at my water bottle.

"And one day you're going to make a lucky guy very, very happy."

I know what she's doing—she's just pushing me, looking for a reaction. I know better. My nostrils still flare though, and my hand is around her elbow before I can help myself. How I wish I could show her just how gay I'm not.

"You think you're so funny." My fingers tighten around her elbow, but she doesn't even flinch.

Instead, she laughs like it's nothing, even though her eyes dart to my lips as I pull her closer. I don't know how I manage not to kiss her, especially after she wets her lips with her tongue.

With a shaky breath, I drop her elbow and hide my face in the crook of my arm with a groan.

"Hey, I'm sorry. It was just a joke." Her tone is soft, full of apologies, but when her fingers get in my hair, I shoot up to my feet.

"Swan, don't do that," I warn.

"Don't do what?" She gets up after me, her eyes on fire. It's a rhetorical question—she knows exactly what she's doing.

"You always do this. You touch me. You grab my hair. It drives me insane."

"So, what? It's not like you like it like that. Right?"

"Yes, I do! That's the whole problem."

"Then why are you fighting it?" She crosses her arms over her chest, like this is exactly where she was going with this.

I take a deep breath, pinching my nose and trying to get my thoughts together. "Bella, we can't be together."

"Says who?"

"Coach Hale? Jasper? Society? Common sense? I don't fucking know."

"Oh, please. Do you really think that after spending all this time together—traveling, training every day—there won't be hookups on the team?"

"So, is that what you want? A hookup?"

"No. But I'm just saying that the 'hands off your teammates' rule is bullshit." She's flustered, breathing harshly. I don't know what to do with myself.

I walk away from her again, heading to the mat, hating everything about it.

"What are you doing?!" She groans loudly behind me.

I can't deal with this right now. I'm not nearly strong enough to resist her. I set up in the corner and take a deep breath, painfully aware that her eyes are on me.

"Cullen!" she yelps behind me, but then I just go for it, practice my running tumbling passes again and again, throwing in flips that aren't even part of the routine. Until I'm dizzy and out of breath. Until she's gone, and I despise myself for it.

~.~.~

I stare at the metal scaffold along the ceiling of the gym, my body flat on the mat, until my breathing slows down and I'm able to get back up. I roll up the padded mats that cover the hardwood floor of the basketball court and put them away, my whole body achy and complaining at every move. I'm hoping an ice bath will help my muscles recover for tomorrow.

I hope some rest would help me clear my head, so I can find Bella and apologize to her...again.

I peel my soaked shirt from my body as I walk back into the locker rooms. I stop with the air catching in my throat as I see her, sitting next to my bag, her leg stretched over the length of the bench, an ice pack wrapped over her right ankle. Her head is resting back, on the wall, her purple towel covering her eyes.

I stand there for a second, contemplating what the fuck to do. My first instinct is to cowardly rush past her and leave, or turn around and exit through the front doors instead, but she's sitting right next to my bag. I'm weighing the potential consequences of leaving my phone, keys, and wallet behind, and not taking an ice bath, when she suddenly startles, moving the towel from her head.

Her eyes are on mine at once, but then they subtly trail down my neck and torso, leaving a burning trail on my skin. Her cheeks flush as she catches herself, looking back up at me.

"I'm sorry," she says quickly, sounding flustered. "I was just about to leave." She grabs the ice pack from her ankle and scoots off the bench, her left foot still in her shoe, while the right one is bare and slightly reddened.

"Swan—"

"It's okay." She grabs her bag in a rush, without looking at me and clearly limping. "You don't have to tumble away from temptation or whatever." She laughs nervously, peeking at me again before turning around to collect the rest of her things.

"Is your ankle okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine." She has all of her things cradled in both arms and her eyes trained on the door as she walks by me.

"Let me help you bandage it." Against my better judgment, my hand circles her elbow, halting her next to me.

"Don't worry about it," she says softly, her eyes still avoiding mine.

"I'm so sorry," I say with my hand still on her elbow. She looks at me with wet eyelashes and eyes that make my chest hurt. "I'm an ass, okay? You just catch me off guard sometimes, and I struggle to…" I take a second to breathe because she's so close I can feel her warmth on my arm, and I do struggle, all the fucking time. To resist her. To control myself. To be good. I don't fucking know. "I just struggle, okay?"

"Okay." Her voice is merely a whisper, her eyes still fixed on mine as if she's afraid to look anywhere else.

"You're seventeen years old, Bella." I don't know what I'm trying to explain. Maybe I'm just trying to convince myself. "I can't…"

"I'm only seventeen for like another month. And what's the big deal? You're nineteen. You're fifteen months older than me. That's it. That's nothing."

"That's…something."

"Okay, Edward." The way she says my name sends a chill down my spine. She almost never calls me by my first name. "I get it. It's fine. You don't have to use our age as an excuse."

"I don't know what it is you think you get, but it's not a fucking excuse," I seethe, releasing her elbow and stepping away from her in a feeble attempt to cool off. "You have no idea how difficult this is for me. How very little control I have right now. How much I want to…" I stop myself. I can't say it out loud. Her eyes widen a little at my outburst while she still stares at me. "But I can't. We can't."

"What we can't do is keep going on like this." She wraps her arms around herself, and her eyes water, breaking me in two. "Because this hurts."

"I'm sorry for that." I rush closer to her, desperate to comfort her. My joints feel loose and my bones weak. "The last thing I want to do is hurt you. I-I just don't know what else to do or how to handle this better."

She sighs, avoiding my eyes. A lonely tear spills from her eye while my hands ache to hold her.

"Bella," I brace myself with honesty because I don't have anything else. "From the moment I met you, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. I can't make myself stop wanting you. And it drives me crazy, like actually certifiably insane."

Her lips twitch into an almost smile, but then she shakes her head, seemingly annoyed at either herself, or my words, or me, or everything in-between.

"My brain says that we can't be together, but the thought of you being with someone else kills me. And I know that it's unfair, and toxic as fuck, but I can't help it. I thought that I would be able to handle being just your friend, but it's really fucking hard."

Her arms loosen their grip around her torso, and she drops them to her sides while she sighs, peeking up at me through wet eyelashes.

"I don't want to get you in trouble." Truths continue to spill out of me, and I am too tired to even care. "I don't want to fuck up my chances here. Or yours. Everything is on the line, and there's so much going on." My shoulders sag in exhaustion as I let out a breath, the weeks behind me weighing me down. There's relief, too, at having told her all of this, at having her know how I really feel about her.

I'm just so, so tired.

"All right," she says, inching closer, and when I look up, she has a sweet smile for me—a real one. "We don't have to figure this out tonight. We have the do-overs for trials tomorrow. Let's focus on that."

I breathe out in relief, noticing she stays carefully away from me.

"You need to rest," she continues. "We both do. It's going to be fine, I promise. We can talk after trials, okay?" She takes a step toward the door, and my eyes fly to her ankle as she slightly limps.

"Let me help you wrap your ankle," I beg from my spot, relieved when she stops and turns to look at me. "Please?"

"Okay." Her eyes trail down my torso again, and she blushes. "But you need to put a shirt on."

"Deal." I smile, looking down at the soaked T-shirt that's still in my fist. I throw the gross thing back on, not really caring as long as it makes her more comfortable, as long as it makes this easier for her—for us.

She walks back to the bench; her limping is more pronounced as she tiptoes with her right foot only. She sits and I drop next to her with a huff. She gets the bandage packet from her bag and I pat my thigh, gesturing for her to set her foot on me.

"It's not too swollen. That's good." I diligently inspect her foot, careful not to be too rough with my movements.

"It's not bad, really," she says, wiggling her toes, her toenails painted in hot pink. "Just want to take every precaution so it's good for tomorrow."

When my fingers rub the arch of her sole, she giggles, squirming under me.

"Hey, stop it," I say when she tries to pull her foot away. I don't want her to hurt her ankle more with a sudden movement.

"It tickles!" Her chuckles intensify, and she pulls her foot again. I have to take a deep breath, looking up at her, while I press my hand under her foot.

"Well, suck it up," I joke, moving her foot back on my thigh. Her laughter subsides as I meticulously wrap her ankle, making sure it's not too tight or too loose. When I'm done, I peek at her and she's staring right at me.

"You look beat." Her tone is soft and sweet.

"I am." I push my hair off my forehead while she reaches for her shoe and moves her foot off my leg. It's just after eight when I check my phone, and I am starving. The Rice Krispies I inhaled after trials are long gone.

"You should ice…everything." She lets out a little laugh as she finishes tying her shoe.

"I will," I say through a chuckle, taking a deep breath. "I'll do a full ice bath." I gesture with my head to the room behind the lockers. "Then head home."

"Okay..." She's off the bench and standing in front of me, fidgeting with the straps of her gym bag. "You did great today. I have a good feeling about tomorrow."

"I hope you're right." I look up, straight into her eyes, our height difference reduced with her standing and me still sitting on the bench. She reaches for my hair but stops midway, dropping her hand to her side, like maybe she gets it now and she won't touch me like that anymore. I don't know if I'm more relieved or upset about that.

She takes a couple steps back, her foot now steadier with her ankle bandaged and her shoe back on.

"You should elevate your ankle for a bit," I tell her, still a bit worried about her injury.

"I will. Will you sleep tonight?"

"I sure hope so," I say, stretching my back.

"Try not to think too much." That silly little grin of hers spreads on her face, warming me all over.

"Easier said than done."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Cullen."

"Bye, Swan." I watch after her as she disappears through the door, wishing she could have stayed here with me, wishing I could have walked her to the dorms. I know it's better this way. We need to stay focused for tomorrow. Making the A Team is what I've been working for the whole summer, in the two months I've spent here with her. I'll do everything I humanly can to make it.

And after I make mat, I'll talk to Bella. We'll talk to Jasper. We'll figure something out. Because she's right, I can't go on like this.