“Okay,” he says with a shrug, and this time, he walks away.
Fuck, I shouldn’t have done this. My friends are too involved in my life. They think they know what’s best for me but don’t know anything.
They don’t know I’m absolutely terrified to give Blakely these things.
That this morning, when I saw her appear from her bedroom, I felt my heart stop beating from how goddamn beautiful she is.
That even though I felt bad that she was embarrassed this morning, I found it so goddamn endearing that she was flustered.
And they sure as hell don’t know that I stood in the middle of my living room last night, staring at her bedroom door, wondering if I should knock on it and ask her if she needed anything.
I didn’t knock.
I was too much of a chickenshit to take a step past my living room.
The elevator dings, and the doors open in front of me. I hesitate for a moment.Maybe this was a bad idea.
Maybe I should just head back to the locker room and pretend this never happened.
The thought of ignoring my brazen idea is really appealing until I realize I can’t walk back to that locker room now with donuts and a phone after Silas saw me.
He would never let me live it down.
And not only that, but he’d also tell the other guys.
I have to go through with the idea, so I step onto the elevator and press the third floor where her office is.
As I ride up, I take deep, calming breaths, telling myself not to get too nervous and that everything will be okay.
When the elevator stops and the doors open, I run right into a familiar face. Familiar to what I’ve seen in the media at least.
“Halsey Holmes,” he says while holding out his hand. “I’m Huxley Cane.”
I take his hand and give it a firm handshake. “Yes, Huxley, how are you?”
“Great,” he says. “It’s an honor to meet you. You had me on the edge of my seat the other night with your late-game goal.”
“That’s what everyone’s been telling me.”
“Hell of a game. Plan on going tonight with some friends and family. Good luck.”
“Thank you, I appreciate that,” I say as he moves around me and walks into the elevator.
With a nod, I move down the hallway toward Blakely’s office. When I see the office door is open, I steel my nerves and knock on the wood while poking my head in.
She’s sitting at her desk, staring into space so my knock startles her. “Oh, Halsey,” she says, making eye contact. “What are you doing here?”
I step into her office. “Uh, I thought you might need a new phone.” I walk up to her desk and place it on the glass surface.
“Seriously?” she asks, looking stunned. “You got me a phone?”
I pull on the back of my neck while holding the donuts, starting to feel even more foolish from her reaction. “Well, I assumed you might need one for the game tonight and everything. You just need to insert your SIM card. I didn’t knowwhat case you’d like so I just grabbed this,” I say while pulling a purple case from my back pocket. “Apparently it doesn’t slip from hands easily. And there’s a screen protector already installed on it as well. The purple is for the Agitators, but feel free to change it.”
She stares at the phone and the case for a few seconds before looking up at me.
“If you don’t like it or if it’s wrong, I can take it back. I have time, so I can make the trip.”
She shakes her head. “No, sorry, I love it, I’m just . . . stunned, is all. This was so nice of you. Thank you, Halsey.”
