Chapter
Thirty-Eight
Jayne
I’ve just changed into jeans and a pretty top, in anticipation of my date with Bodi, when there’s a knock on the restroom door. Then it opens and Bodi cautiously sticks his head in.
“Hey.” He looks tired.
I can’t quite tell what’s wrong but his expression is a combination of fatigue and…defeat. That’s the only way to describe it.
“Are you okay?” I ask automatically, rushing over to him and putting my hand on his cheek. “What happened?”
“Your Dad knows,” he says quietly.
“Oh, shit. What did he say?”
“Well, let’s just say practice lasted a lot longer than usual and ended with me puking in the locker room and him giving me an ultimatum.”
No no no.
This is exactly what I was afraid of.
Dammit.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, tears stinging my eyes. “What can I do? Should I talk to him? Tell me what to do.”
“I don’t think we have many choices, baby.” His voice is quiet, the look in his eyes inscrutable.
“Me or your career,” I say, reality hitting me as hard as a physical blow. My stomach turns, my heart twists, and all I can do is stand here, staring at him. It’s like the world goes from color to black and white, everything in my field of vision blurring from the impact of his words.
“I’m not sure what to do,” he says gruffly. “I tried talking to him, explaining that I love you, that this isn’t some casual hook up but he was…”
“Irrational? Completely inflexible?”
“So pissed off. I mean, I told him I’d take care of you—even pay for your last semester of school—and he just lost it. It was…weird.”
I frown. The one thing my dad’s been bitching about has been money, so removing me as a financial burden should make him happy. That it doesn’t makes no sense.
“I don’t get it either,” I admit. “You’d think he’d be glad to get rid of me at this point. All I can come up with is that his pride is bruised. And now he’s going to take it out on you.”
“I came right here after practice,” he says, pulling me close. “But I’m going to call my agent and then I may even reach out to Ms. Barrowman, the owner of the Phantoms. She may not be able to help me right away, but if I can get picked up somewhere else, will you go with me?”
I blink.
Is that even a question?
“I know it might screw up your internship,” he continues before I can respond, “but we’ll find you another one and I’ll pay for it if you have to repeat the semester.”
Is he serious?
I don’t even care about the internship at this point. I just want him—and us—to be okay. Together.
“I’ll go anywhere you want me to,” I whisper, resting my head on his chest.
He rubs his hands up and down my back.
“Everything is going to be all right. I just need a few days to come up with a plan. I’d say let’s get you out of there, but it might be better if he thinks we’re broken up, so he doesn’t go around talking shit about me around the league and ruining my chances of getting traded.”
