That’s just not going to happen, but I don’t tell her that. However, missing the game Sunday? Not being able to see Lennon play, if she’s cleared that is, is a dagger to the heart. “Can’t I?—”
“No. Do not push me right now. I’m this close to saying fuck it and launching an investigation anyway, despite what you both claim.”
She turns her back to me and places a hand on the doorknob. Then quietly, she says, “I trusted you. I wanted to give you a chance at a new start because I knew you could be good. And you were. You were good at this job.” She then looks over her shoulder and pain has replaced fury behind her eyes. “I’m disappointed in you, Luke. I truly am.”
“Alice…” My words catch in my throat, tangled up in guilt and regret, but never over loving Lennon. Only over betraying Alice’s trust. “I’m sorry. I truly am. I never meant for this to happen, and I never wanted to betray you. You stuck a hand out to me when I was drowning, and I didn’t even want to be saved. But you know who else did that for me?”
Alice is silent.
“She did.”
Her jaw clenches before she turns back to the door. “Don’t do something else stupid, Luke. Go home.”
With that, she’s out the door and leaving me alone with the silent hum of these four walls.
39
Luke
Me: Are you back in your hotel room?
32: Yeah. Can you come over or should I come to you?
Me: I’m on my way. I don’t want you walking around. Unlock the door for me. I’ll be there in a few
32: It’s #740
I waited as long as I possibly could. Once Alice left me, I went out to my car and drove around the city, biding my time. Sebastian constantly tried to call me, but I kept hitting ignore. He, Sierra, and my dad all came to Chicago for the tournament this weekend, but I couldn’t face them just yet. Not until I see Lennon.
Night has officially fallen, and I knew it would take a bit for Lennon to get back to the hotel and settled, but now I can’t wait anymore.
When I get into the elevator, I say a silent prayer that my keycard will work and that Alice didn’t get it shut off when she surely cancelled the rest of my reservation this afternoon. But the scanner turns green, and I’m able to press the button for the seventh floor.
The doors open, and I peek into the hallway. It’s thankfully empty, and I quickly make my way down the corridor, watching for 740. I almost pass it in my rush, but the door swings open, like someone was watching for me.
Although, it’s not who I was expecting. Grace shuts it as soon as I’m inside. Her red hair is thrown up in a bun, and she shifts on her feet, unsure of what to do with my presence here, clearly.
“Hey, Coach,” she says softly, but not meekly. Her eyes are narrowed as they take me in, a new sharpness behind her assessing gaze. This isn’t a look from an athlete to their coach. This is a look from a girl to her best friend’s boyfriend.
Boyfriend.
The title sounds so juvenile, so regular, compared to everything I feel for Lennon.
“Hi, Miller.”
Lennon lies on the queen sized bed closer to the window. I immediately cross over and stand at the edge, looking her over.
Her hair is a tangled mess and exhaustion weighs down her features, but she’s intact. Beautiful, safe, and wonderfully intact. My resilient girl.
Her lips tilt in the faintest of smiles, and despite everything that has transpired today, I know we’ll be alright.
Grace clears her throat behind us. “I’m gonna head to my room then, if you’re good?” She directs the question toward Lennon who gives her friend a nod of approval.
“Thanks. Text me in the morning when you go to practice?”
“Coach said you’re not supposed to come.”
Lennon lets out a frustrated groan. “I know, I know. Just…keep me in the loop, okay?”
