Terrified Of My Past, Craving His Touch

Elise’s
Every time Damien speaks, I feel myself shrinking, waiting for the edge in his voice to turn cruel. But it never does. He is blunt, yes, but not in the way I have come to fear. He pushes, but not too hard, as if he knows I might break. That unsettles me more than his sharp grin or the way every girl on campus watches him walk by.
I keep telling myself he is dangerous, that his type will ruin me, but my body betrays me. My pulse stumbles when his hand brushes mine. My stomach twists when his attention lingers too long. And deep down, I am terrified of what will happen if I stop running from him. Because for the first time in years, part of me wonders what it would feel like to trust a man again.
Damien’s
I have never cared about anyone outside the game. Girls were fun, easy, forgettable. That is the way it had to be. Distractions get you benched, and I was not about to risk my shot at the NFL for some temporary crush. But Elise Hawthorne is not temporary. She is quiet in a way that makes me listen harder, soft in a way that gets under my skin. She is scared of me, I see it every time her eyes dart away, but she still shows up, still stands next to me even when her hands shake.
And that kills me, because I am not supposed to want to protect her. I am not supposed to crave her trust, her smile, her touch. She is the one line I should never cross, yet every part of me is already leaning over it.