This is going to feed her insecurity about me and us. And I can’t blame her at all, either. Not for a single second. My knee starts bouncing as I think about what is going to happen next.
As soon as the bus pulls up to the hotel, I stand. Daniel reaches for my forearm and squeezes. “Don’t do anything crazy. Call her, try to talk to her.”
I almost laugh at him, mainly because I know that Wrenly won’t answer. She’ll go as far as to block my calls. I know she will. She’s done it before. I can’t just sit here and call her, doing nothing else.
I need to go to her.
WRENLY
If my dad noticed my shift in mood, he thankfully never said anything. I spent most of Sunday feeling sorry for myself. It’s Monday morning, and I’m back to work. I had planned on talking to my boss about how to get my credentials switched over to Ohio, about how to ensure that I don’t lose all my schooling credits and time as a dental assistant, but now I don’t care.
I’m not going anywhere.
Not after that picture that was sent to me. Not only that, Eli didn’t even message or call me, nothing. It was all kissy faces and sweet words minutes before that photo was sent, and now it’s radio silence?
I don’t understand what happened. I’m also not sure I want to know the whole story, either. In fact, I think I would rather live in a state of unknowing and just move on with my life.
It was a few days of amazing sex. That’s what I tell myself. Considering he’s the only amazing sex I’ve ever had, I’m going to remember the good stuff and move on.
Clearly, he’s not ready to settle down, and I just need to accept that.
This is the closure I needed, even if it’s not real closure. But it’s better than what I had before. He’s shown me exactly what I needed to see, and I see it—clear as crystal. Keeping my head down, I spend the day working, wondering what tomorrow will bring.
I’m not sure if I feel relieved or sad. My brain tells me that I should be happy, but my heart is breaking into a million pieces. I must give off leave-me-alone vibes because nobody at work asks me about my week away.
They all keep their distance and don’t ask anything too personal, which isn’t like them, but I’m grateful for the peace. Gathering my things, I wave goodbye to everyone and start to make my way out to my car.
Something catches the corner of my eye, and I pause just a few feet away from my driver’s door.
It’s him.
Eli Abbott is standing with his ass leaning against my car door. His hands are shoved into his pockets, his chin is tipped down slightly, and he’s looking up at me through his lashes. If I were in an ’80s teen movie right now, I wouldn’t be surprised. Because that’s exactly how this moment feels.
The beautiful popular hero.
The nerdy, friendless heroine.
But this isn’t a movie, and he’s beautiful. That being said, it doesn’t mean he gets to treat me badly. I need to stand up for myself. I blame myself for running away from him two years ago, but I don’t blame myself for his actions Saturday night.
My feet carry me toward him, a pull that I couldn’t deny even if I tried. Thankfully, my brain steps in, and I stop just a few feet away from him instead of slamming my body against his and kissing him until I’m breathless.
“Wrenly,” he murmurs.
God. I love the way he says my name.
I bite the inside of my cheek until the metallic taste of blood touches my taste buds. It’s the only way I can keep from throwing myself at him, from crying and begging him to want to keep me.
“Eli,” I state woodenly after releasing my cheek. “What are you doing here?”
His lips twitch into a small smile, but otherwise, he stays solid and still. “I didn’t send that. I don’t know how it was taken. A group of them showed up at the hotel and started asking for pictures before we boarded the bus.”
I stare at him, blinking as I try to process the words he’s said so quickly. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I let out a heavy breath. Once the words register, I don’t know how to respond.
Instead of asking for any details, I switch the topic slightly. “Aren’t you supposed to be playing tomorrow?”
He hums. “Coach knew I would play like shit. He’s giving me this one game to handle my shit. If I’m not handled, he’s going to start looking at my contract.”
“What does that mean?”
