A large, gas-guzzling monstrosity pulled up to the curb—illegally parking in the maintenance zone.
The engine cut.
I turned, my breath catching in my throat.
The door opened.
A figure stumbled out.No coat.A gray hoodie and jeans.
He started running.
Chapter 36
Overtime
Austen
Not a jog—a frantic, slipping sprint.His sneakers skidded on a patch of ice; he caught himself on the railing, knuckles white, and kept coming.
My heart stopped, then restarted at double speed.
Luke.
He reached me, chest heaving, his breath exploding in white clouds.He looked frantic.His hair was a mess, blown wild by the wind.His face was flushed from the cold or the run, his eyes wide and dark and terrified.
He stopped two feet away, gripping the railing as if he might fall off the earth if he let go.He stared at me like I was a ghost he hadn’t expected to find haunting the machine.
“You’re here,” he choked out.
“I’m here,” I said, my voice flat.I didn’t move toward him.I kept my hands in my pockets, protecting myself from the cold and from the gravity of him.“Maya said the contract came through.Ryan told her it was a done deal, you just needed to sign it.”
“It was,” Luke said.
“Why are you here?You should be celebrating.You should be with the scouts.Or your father.”
“I left them.”
“For a breather?Before you sign your life away?”
“I didn’t sign it.”
The words hung between us, suspended in the swirling snow.
I stared at him, the data not computing.“What?”
“I didn’t sign it,” he repeated, louder this time, shouting over a gust of wind.He let go of the railing and stepped closer, invading my personal space, radiating heat and desperation.“I told my father I wasn’t going to St.Paul.I told him I was finishing my degree.”
He took another step, his boots crunching on the frozen grit.
“And I told my dad to go to hell.”
My brain stalled.The variables weren’t adding up.“Luke.The camp.The contract.That is the optimal path.”
“I don’t care,” he said violently.“I don’t care about the camp if it means I have to be…singular.I don’t want to be singular.I hate being singular.”
He reached for me, his hands hovering, shaking slightly.
“I tried, Austen.For four days, I tried to do it the way he wanted.I shut everything out.And you know what happened?I let in four goals today.Harper kicked me off the ice.”
