“I dragged him along. The poor guy was neck deep into a book, and I saved him from that torture.” Dean stared at Mack for a beat too long then asked me, “You heading back to the house or hanging with your teammates?”
“Speaking of teammates. Higgs wanted me to pass the messagefuck offto you.”
Dean cackled. “That girl. She’s funny.”
“Funny?” Mack said, her brows drawing together. “How do you—doesn’t matter.” She shook her head, her voice betraying a little too much curiosity.
I wasn’t exactly sure what to do about her crush besides nothing. It was her life and her choices. Did I think Dean was ready for a relationship? Absolutely not. He was as polite as an ogre.
But moments like this, where she wanted to ask so desperately, I could help her out. “Yeah, why the hell do you know Mally well enough to get cussed out?”
Dean ran a hand through his hair and laughed. “We fight over a parking spot outside Phoenix Hall. It’s an ongoing war, nothing more than that.”
“Strange.” I shrugged and adjusted the bag from my right to my left shoulder. In doing the motion, a familiar head of blond hair came into view, and my body went rigid. He wore a Central State soccer sweatshirt withmy numberon the chest. I knew that shirt. I’dmadethat shirt.
Why wasErichere? What the actual hell? Luca rocked me off my game, but Eric flattened me.
My lips parted, and my skin flushed. My stomach soured, and I knew the second Mack saw him because she looped her arm through mine.
“What’s wrong?” Luca asked, his growly voice pulling my attention. “Lorelei—”
“What’s happening?” Dean’s frantic energy matched the unease in my gut as he also narrowed his eyes at me. “Lo, you paled.”
Luca frowned and glanced over his shoulder, his body tensing when he too saw the object of my discomfort. He fisted his hand at his side, and the only reason I even saw that was because I was too uncomfortable looking at Eric.
The thing about my ex was that I never could figure out his intentions. He’d make me feel important one week, then like dirt the next. He’d say he loved my attitude and fire and drive, then act embarrassed by me. It was unhealthy and inconsistent and even now—he had zero reason being at the game with my number. Did he think I’d forgive him for how he’d hurt me?
Eric approached us, his easy smile flashing. “Hey all, great game, Mack.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Lo, can I talk to you for a second?” The smile fell, and worry laced his eyes. “Please? It won’t take long.”
My jaw tensed, and I hated that I nodded.
“You don’t have to,” Luca said, his voice stern and almost angry. “You don’t have to speak with him if you don’t want to, Lorelei.”
I met his stormy eyes, and my breath caught in my throat. His eyes were cloudy and angry. Tight lines formed around his mouth, and his left cheek twitched, yet my mind couldn’t piece together why.
I hated the minor pull I still had to Eric, the curiosity to hear what he had to say. Did I want to be back with him? No. Did I still love him? No. Definitely not. But maybe my ego needed real closure or to know he regretted it. I nodded at Eric and moved past my brother and Luca.
Luca growled something under his breath, but I couldn’t hear it. My focus was on Eric, the guy who made me want to never date again. I eyed his shirt and sneered. “You shouldn’t wear that. It was a gift when we were together.”
“It’s the only soccer gear I had, and I realize what it looks like.” He winced and gripped the back of his neck. “You played insane, Lo. Watching you on the field was like… I’m impressed.”
“Thank you,” I said, coolly. “It’s clear this is the first time you’ve seen me play.”
“Yeah, and I’m sorry for that.” He sighed, his breath hitting my face, before he stared at my mouth. “I’m sorry for a lot of things, and I wish I had a good excuse. I don’t. I fucked up. I miss us. I hate that we glare at each other in class, like I can’t even talk to you anymore. We were friends first.”
Irritation danced along my spine, flirting with the simmering anger I always got when I thought of him. A dull ache formed in the back of my eyes. “What do you want from me? I don’t get this. We broke up because you’re an asshole. You moved on—we both moved on.”
“I want us to be friends. Talk about things. Like our projects in class—”
“Are you fucking joking?” I yelled, my seething anger turning my vision red. Did hecome to my gameto try and talk about our class project? The nerve. “Tell me right now before I—”
“Time to go, Lo.” A strong voice was nearby, a voice I recognized, but I wanted to punch Eric in the face.
Someone put their hand on my shoulder, grounding me, and then the hand moved to my hip, drawing me into a large chest.
