“Is your posse all home for the holidays already?” Clyde attempted to converse again. The man literally had no social skills, because he was not picking up on my mood. “Where are the barbarians?”
“Busy.” God, I hated how snotty I sounded. I cleared my throat and made an attempt. He did not deserve my attitude. “They aren’t home yet—most of us leave tomorrow.”
“Ah, well. I feel bad I’m not having you play tonight. It’s a decent crowd.” He scanned the bar and I agreed. There were more people than usual for a holiday weekend. “Oh, there one is. I figured as much.”
“There who is?” I turned, and felt like a train had hit me.
Aaron stood there, looking straight at me. With another girl. My chest squeezed so tight, I thought I would burst. Then, a numbness took over.
“Aaron, my man, it’s been a while.” Clyde’s voice held joy—the two of them had become some version ofamigosduring our dating scheme. But now, I hated Clyde. I glanced back at the beer and gripped the edge of the bar.Leave me alone. Leave me alone, Aaron.
“Hey, Clyde. Happy holidays.” His deep voice held the perfect undertone of playful.
“You too. What can I get you?”
“I’ll have a pitcher, and you, Ambar?”
Ambar? Fucking Ambar?
“Whiskey is fine.”
God. She’s cool too, drinking whiskey.I slammed my eyes shut and thought about leaving the rest of my drinks. But nope. Aaron chose a stool three away from me. I felt his stare and gave in. I met his dark eyes. “Hey.”
“Hey, how’s it going?”
“Great. You?”Fuck fuck fuck.I glanced at Ambar and she stared right back at me with wide eyes.Good. I hope I scare her.
“Good.” He ran his hand through his hair. His gaze flicked to my wrist, the phoenix bracelet sticking out against my pale skin. But he didn’t react to it. He bit on the inside of his cheek for a second before saying in a neutral, emotionless tone, “Have a good Christmas.”
“You too.” I fought the urge to cry and threw a ten on the counter. I couldn’t pretend. I couldn’t. Not when he had another date. “I need to go, Clyde.”
“Wait, Greta—”
“I’m sorry.” My voice cracked and if I didn’t leave that second, everyone would see me melt down. “I need to go.”
And I ran out of the bar.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Aaron
“That’s not the look of someone who’s happy, Aaron.” Ambar’s observation was not alone. My thoughts traveled too fast for me to clasp onto one idea. Greta’s dark brown eyes were dull and her face looked off without a hint of a smile. An uncomfortable pit formed in my stomach before I remembered her words.She wants space. She wants fucking Tony.
“We came here for a reason. Let’s get to it.” I didn’t dislike Ambar, but I didn’t like her either. It was an odd combo, but she had a purpose. “I want to get this over with.”
“She thought we were together.” Her voice dropped and I mentally rolled my eyes. “She looked like she was crying.”
“She wasn’t. Greta… Let’s just forget about that.” I grabbed our drinks and sat in an abandoned booth. “Thank you for meeting me the Saturday before the holiday.”
“Yeah. No worries. I live in town.” She pulled out a spiral notebook and placed it on the grungy table. “Before we start, what made you want to do this? I thought you were out with the bros tonight.”
“It was suggested to me and if I have to do it, I’d rather control it the best I can. And I had a drink with them—I just didn’t want to partake in their actions tonight.” My body was as stiff as a board. Every part of me hated the idea of doing an interview, but my brain overrode them. Coach said it wasa learning experienceabout media.
‘Either control what you can or deal with it. If you give one full-access interview, then people will back off. But it’s your choice, kid.’
“Fair enough. How did you hear about me?”
“I asked around for an unbiased, not psycho journalist. Your name came up.”And she hasn’t slept with anyone on the team or looked at me with crazy eyes.
