And now, so is her image.
Theirimage.
Her cheek is pressed against Eli’s. She’s wearing a huge smile. It consumes her face. I don’t know if I can even stomach to look at Eli, but I do it anyway. He’s smiling. Of course, he’s smiling. Maddison is sexy and pressed against him.
But why did he send me the selfie?
Is he trying to tell me something?
Then I realize that Eli is out of town. He’s not in Cleveland. He’s in Hershey, and she’s there. My stomach flips at the sight of them. They’re together at a hotel, at an out-of-town game, and he’s sending the picture to me.
I’m going to be sick.
Angry and sick.
Fuck.
Him.
TWENTY-FIVE
ELI
“VORTEX WINNNNNNNNS.”
The adrenaline that pumps through my veins is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I have to admit that I wish Wrenly and Ryan were here. I’ve personally never made it this far in the playoffs, and it’s more exciting than I imagined it would be.
However, the celebration seems a bit unfilled as I look around the audience and hope to see them. I know they aren’t there. They’re fifteen hundred miles away, tucked into her dad’s house, safe and sound.
Skating back to the locker room, I wince at the fact that I wasn’t able to text Wrenly during my breaks. We were so in the zone, so on the top of our game. Our entire period breaks were spent strategizing.
Now that I’m on the bus and headed back to the hotel, the air around me is charged but quiet with contemplation. We’re excited but also replaying the whole game in our heads. At least I know I am.
Taking my phone out of my pocket, I open the text thread, wanting to send Wrenly a text that I’ll call her as soon as I get back to the room. But the sight that greets me in the thread causes my stomach to drop.
What the fuck?
What the actual fuck?
It’s a photo of me and that woman who forced me to take a selfie at the hotel before the game. How the in actual fuck did this end up not only on my phone but sent to Wrenly, too? I can’t look away from the thread. I don’t know what to do. My heart starts racing, and my breathing becomes short and labored.
“You okay?” a voice asks, but it sounds like it’s off in the distance somewhere.
My eyes have lost focus. Everything is blurry. I can’t see a fucking thing. Then I feel a hand on my shoulder, and it shakes me. Turning my head, I look over to see Daniel staring at me, concern washing over his face.
I can’t speak. My throat is too tight. Handing him the phone, I watch as his eyes widen. He takes in the text, then shifts his attention to meet mine.
“What the fuck?” he asks in a hiss. “That’s the hotel lobby.”
“It is,” I am finally able to say.
He opens his mouth, likely to ask me how. The fucker of it all is that I don’t know. I don’t fucking know. So I tell him just that. “I don’t know how it happened. My phone was in the pocket of my bag. I thought it was in my jeans’ back pocket, but that’s all I know. That’s all I know. My life is going to be ruined if Wrenly leaves me over this.”
“She won’t leave you,” he says.
“How do you know?”
My words come out as a demand. I want him to assure me, but I also know that he can’t. There’s nothing he could really say or do to fix this. Wrenly and I are on shaky fucking ground right now. I want her with me. She doesn’t want to leave her father. And this is only going to keep her right where she is.
