Thank my lucky stars, Logan appeared in the lobby, dressed to the nines and freshly showered. I ran up to him, not caring I clearly intruded some of his plans. “Logan, have you seen Brock?”
“By your tone I guess this isn’t for a good reason,” he said with a smile that changed to a frown when he took me in. “I haven't within the hour, no. You look flustered. Are you okay?”
“I'm okay. He took off without giving me my room card. I don't really know what to do. The coach had me down as Grant, which would be funny as hell—”
“If you weren't stranded right now. Yeah, I agree.” He scowled. “At a later time, I'm going to make fun of you for this. But right now, I'm going to kill Brock. God.”
“Do you know what's going on?” I asked, my muscles all clenching in response. It was a risky move, putting Brock on blast, butcome on.I hadn't seen him since we arrived hours ago, and I had no room key. He’d crossed a line. “I hate feeling stupid.”
“Grace, don't feel stupid. I'm seriously going to punch him.” He sighed then grabbed his wallet from his pocket. “Here, I'm giving you my card. I'm rooming with Chris—you know, that big guy who coaches with us. Use my bed tonight if you don't find Brock soon. Chris is a decent guy, and I probably won't make it back tonight.”
“You look nice. Hot date?”
“I got hoes in different area codes,” he said, looking all sorts of confident. “Don’t tell anyone I said that. That was a little disconcerting even for me.”
“I won't right now, but I will later. Thank you, Logan. This is nice. I'm so out of my league, and I feel ridiculous.” I held his room key tightly in my hand, like he would try and escape if I didn’t keep a hard grasp on it.
“Give me your number. I'll text you, and if you are totally screwed, let me know. I'll come back and help you out.”
We exchanged numbers, and I sighed in relief knowing I had some sort of ally there. I did not understand what the hell had happened and wasn't sure if I wanted to figure it out. People needed to treat each other with respect. Screw this.
I went to Logan’s room on the second floor and knocked. If Chris was in there, I would explain the situation and hopefully figure out where Brock was, and they could switch roommates. I waited, heart racing. We’d chatted a handful of times, but he was still all sorts of scary. Footsteps approached the door, and my heart sped up. Chris opened the door and gave me a friendly smile.
“Hey, Gracie. Logan texted me you'd be by. You all right?” He leaned against the frame, not quite letting me in but not shutting me out. I sighed and fought the urge to cry in frustration. It felt like I was being bullied for no damn reason. It was like high school mean girls but worse. Mean boys were stupid.Especially when I’d thought things had changed.
“I have nowhere to stay tonight. Logan offered up his bed. Can I stay here? You can stay in the room with Brock. I don't know where he went, and I'm tired as hell and roomless,” I rambled, words bleeding into each other. Then, another thought occurred to me. “Is Brock okay? He took off, and I'm beginning to worry maybe something happened to him.”
A look of regret came over Chris’ face. He looked down before pushing open the door further. Brock was sitting at the desk, totally fine. The momentary concern I had for him flew out the damn door. It would besomuch better if he had an accident or something. But this, downright ignoring me? That was a new low for him.
He seemed real relaxed watching TV, and my mind went two places at that moment. I wanted to tackle him while punching him in the face. Then, the other part went to how uncomfortable confrontation was for me. My palms sweat, my heart raced, and my eyes stung with tears purely induced from anger. I froze, unsure and awkward.
“Uh, want to come in?” Chris asked with hesitation. I stood there, speechless, waiting to see what Brock would do. He still hadn’t looked up, and that pissed me off more. He had to know it was me. I made up my mind—I walked right by Chris and up to Brock. His only reaction was a quick intake of breath.
I fumed. The anger and sexual frustration combined into a dangerous place in my mind, and I smacked my fist on top of the desk. My voice reached an icy level, one I didn’t know I had. “You are such an asshole. You couldn’t text me back? Give me a room key? I waited hours for you to come back or text me. I have no way of getting back in there. Why? Tell. Me. Why.”
He opened his mouth, closed it, and repeated the action. It would look endearing to anyone who wasn’t fuming mad at him. I jutted my chin out, shaking my head. “Fine. You don’t want to be an adult? Then either get out, so I can crash here, or give me a key.”
He scanned my body, lingering a little too long on my legs, but I didn’t react to it. My anger took over every emotion. Then, slowly, he slid a room key out of his pocket and handed it to me without saying a damn word. I yanked it and marched out of the room with a quick goodbye to Chris.
What. The. Fuck.
I arrived at my original hotel room and put the chain on the door. Brock could stay with Chris; I didn’t care. Remembering Logan, I sent him a quick text saying I was fine. He had to have known he was there, but I let go of my annoyance. Whenever I felt sad or frustrated in the past, I would take a shower— a long, incredibly hot, and steamy shower. I would think about everything, weigh the positives of my life and only focus on those. Because life was full of disappointments if you chose to look at only the negative. It was hard, but finding the positives made all the difference.
Positives—this amazing internship, the networking, and pay.
The negatives—Brock. Brock Anderson.
I was ten minutes into the shower when a loud, disruptive banging scared me. It sounded like someone was fixing the air conditioning unit right outside my room. I ignored it. Then, it happened again, louder. I stopped the water, peeking my head out of the curtain. It was coming from the hallway.
“Grace. Open the damn door right now.”
I froze. Shit. I quickly wrapped myself in a towel and tiptoed to the door. It was pushed open as far as the chain would allow. I gulped.
“I swear to God, Grace, I know you’re in there. Open. The. Door.”
I couldn’t see his face, and that made me braver. I stayed out of view. “No.”
“We need to talk. Let me in.”
