Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Gianna seems to stifle a grin, and she lets the questions come. I handle them all. I might not be able to have Trina, but I can protect her even from afar.
Later, when the battering session is done, I return to the locker room with Gianna and Ledger. “It’ll die down soon. And then you’ll be like me, and they’ll just ask when you’ll retire,” he says.
“Not on my watch,” Gianna warns him.
“Or mine,” I add. I rely on this guy. I don’t want to think about playing without him. Just like I don’t want to think about being back in my home without Trina when I return to California in a few more days.
That’s going to suck big time.
Sucks, too, that I can’t call or text Ryker to get a beer and play pool. We’re not really talking, and that’s all kinds of messed up.
But for now, I’m the hassle to the team, and I hate being that guy. “Listen, Gianna. This should blow over soon. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure we can just keep on sailing,” I say, staying cheery.
“It’s okay. My job is to smooth your path, not the other way around.”
“Thank you,” I say, wishing I didn’t need the help.
When she heads the other way, Ledger holds up a stop-sign hand. “Chase,” he says and shit’s getting serious if he’s using my first name.
“Yeah?”
“I told the guys not to say anything. About the podcast and your…friend. And everything that went down.”
Oh.
I scratch my jaw, a little embarrassed that it came to that, him cleaning up my mess. But this explanation makes sense—explains why the guys said nothing. They listen to Ledger since he speaks from years of authority.
“Um, thanks,” I say.
“Anytime,” he says, then clears his throat. “But I did it because you seemed happier before.”
Ledger doesn’t usually give relationship advice. “That so?” I say with a smile.
“Yeah, that doesn’t fool me. That smile,” he says, calling bullshit. “If the bad luck charm makes you happy, get her back. We all know it wasn’t fake.”
He turns around and heads into the locker room, leaving me stuck with that piece of advice.
Get her back.
As if it’s not the thing I want most. And the thought I’ve been trying to avoid since I let her go on Sunday night.
Alone in my hotel room that night, I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, the words get her back echoing in my head.
Nice idea, but it seems impossible. Ledger doesn’t know it wasn’t just her and me. There was someone else in the mix too, and we both want the girl. We both want to share the girl. But I’m not even talking to Ryker. Not so much as a single text. So getting back the girl seems harder than pulling off a hat trick.
I need to keep my head in the game, even if my heart’s on the other side of the country.
But as the trip goes on, the missing doesn’t ebb even as we keep winning. It intensifies. Every day. Hell, every hour. By the time the trip ends, and I’m boarding the plane back to San Francisco, my chest is tight, my muscles are tense, and my head is a mess. I can’t separate thoughts of her from thoughts of anything else.
I can’t focus on a single thing that’s not her, knowing I’ll be in the same city as her again.
I’ll be close to her store. Close to her. She’s all I can think about. She’s the only thing on my mind. And she’s filling up every hollow space in my heart.
I can’t fix this feeling. I can’t solve this feeling. I can’t paste on a smile and make it all go away.
I just want her, no matter how hard I try to be the same guy I was before.
Because maybe I’m not the same guy anymore.
39
IT’S COMPLICATED
Ryker
When my Saturday afternoon game ends, I meet Ivy for an early dinner in Hayes Valley. We’re at a trendy spot she picked out that serves Mediterranean food, and I wish she’d told me in advance since it reminds me of Trina. But then again, everything does.
That’s just my life.
Ivy and I catch up about her work and Grandma over hummus, but a few minutes in, she sets down her mojito. “Enough of this small talk. What’s going on with Trina and you and Chase?”
“Someone doesn’t mess around,” I say with a low whistle of appreciation for her candor.
She’s unflinching. “Talk. It’s that thing people do with those they trust when something’s on their mind.”
But where do I even start? It all feels so big, so consuming. I drag a hand over my beard, hunting for a way out but knowing I won’t find one. Or maybe I don’t want one anymore. Maybe I’m ready for…connection.