My stomach drops, and I wonder if I was wrong about him. “I want to go home.”
He watches me for a beat. Then nods.
The atmosphere in the limo is the polar opposite of the ride here. The air is chilled, and the silence is heavy. I need some time to process this information. How did I not know this before? I never questioned him. I never asked whether he was planning to go pro. I just assumed because if it were an option for me, I wouldn’t hesitate.
When the car pulls up to my house, he walks me to the door. “I can come in,” he says softly. “We can talk.”
I unlock the door, hand on the knob. “I’ll see you tomorrow. For the livestream.”
There’s a pause. I don’t turn around.
“Okay,” he says.
The door clicks shut between us, leaving behind unanswered questions. And I just stand there, hand still gripping the knob. I thought I knew him. I thought he was the kind of guy who would fight for his dreams. Who would tell his father to fuck off. But he’s not. And if he can’t fight for his own dream, how can I trust he’ll fight for me?
I don’t want to be someone’s temporary distraction until he goes off to fulfill his family obligations.
Chapter 28
Shakes & Promises
Beau
Therumblingwhirofthe blender is a siren call to my roommates. Cole and Grant are the first to wander in, eyeing the rainbow of ingredients scattered all over the counter. Greek yogurt, peanut butter, vanilla, cinnamon, fresh blueberries, raspberries, and spinach. They’re all spread out around the vat of my favorite protein powder. It’s the only one I’ve been able to find that doesn’t taste like the blacktop area of an elementary school playground.
JJ skids in next, barefoot and shirtless. “You making your special recipe?”
“Yes,” I reply, adding a dash of cinnamon before I pulse the mixture one last time. “Not for you.”
Dev strolls to the doorway next, leaning against the frame, arms crossed.
“Do any of you actually go to classes?” I ask. I was really hoping to avoid a scene.
“Not on Wednesday afternoons.” Grant flips open the snack cupboards, eyeing the many choices before his eyes drift back to the thick liquid I’m pouring into a second chilled tumbler.
I screw the lid on tight, turning around to face the rabid dogs I live with. “If you clean up after, you’re welcome to make your own.”
“Who’s that one for? Is it Wilder? It must be. He’s going to go grovel, guys!” JJ claps his hands.
Shaking my head, I walk away. It takes a lot to step away from the mess on the counter, but I have to trust these guys will clean it up. “I’m not groveling, just explaining.”
“Same difference.” JJ again.
The faucet turns on full blast. There’s a clatter as something falls to the counter.
“See you all at practice,” I call behind my back. It’s better if I don’t turn around. Then I can pretend there’s no water splashed all over the counter or spilled cinnamon. Or whatever it is JJ knocked over.
Dev claps me on the shoulder as I walk by. “Good luck,” he says in a low tone meant only for my ears.
Even after psyching myself up the entire drive to school, I’m still standing by the door awkwardly while a group of skaters eyes me from the other end of the hall, giggling. The smoothie cups send chills through my already damp palms.
At least their laughter finally spurs me on, and I push through the door to the stairwell. What if she’s not even in there, and I drove here for nothing but disappointment and an extra helping of protein?
The door to her favorite office is ajar, so I don’t feel as bad pushing it open. Her long hair is pulled up in a messy bun ontop of her head, but I’d love to run my fingers through the loose strands dangling by her cheeks. I can almost feel the soft silk.
“That you, Maize?” she asks, not looking up from the laptop. Her bottom lip is tucked between her teeth.
“Cold.”
