“You just cussed.”
“Shit.” I didn’t mean to say that out loud. “I think I just got dumped.”
He laughed and leaned toward the letter, but I snatched it out of his view. “You got dumped in a letter? That’s hilarious.”
“No. It’s not.” I stood, torn between demanding an explanation for the absurd note and wanting to rip it into a million pieces.
If you were worried about how to tell me it was over, please don’t.What bullshit was that? When did I say anything related to us being over? I’d yelled at her that I had to go, and that was that. Sure, not a good move, but she’d understand once I explained.
Maybe I could’ve explained why I sprinted out of the house. Did she think I’d ghosted her again? My stomach tightened, the chance of being with her again slipping away. I scrubbed my face with my palms, pushing on my eyes until white spots appeared. If she wanted to break up with me, it wasn’t a good sign.
I glanced out the window toward the house, almost laughing at how much had changed in a week. Well, how much I’d changed. Maybe the guys would be okay if I took off for an hour.
“Coach, we’re going to watchRemember the Titans. Figured we could all enjoy a movie about teamwork. Want to join us?”
Shit. “Of course.”
Explaining myself and convincing Becca we’d be great together would have to wait. My job was here with the guys. I just hoped Becca was patient.
Talking to Becca didn’t happen the next day, either. Dexter woke from the coma, and we took turns visiting him. More players traveled from their hometowns to see him, and I remained the point person. In a whirlwind of phone calls, dodging social media, and organizing dinners for over twenty players, I thought about Becca. Often.
She became my beacon of hope at the end of the shitstorm. Dexter wouldn’t play football again. That was certain. His neck and collarbone suffered too much damage, and rehab would take months, if not years, before he regained normal movement. From a coaching standpoint, it sucked because he was one of our best running backs. But the way his accident brought the team together was undeniable. He’d be our motivation.
I hated that it took them almost losing a teammate to have a wake-up call, but it served as one, and a new focus settled over the team. It wasn’t until the end of day three that Dexter passed the critical stage, and I had a moment alone.
I smelled like fast food and the hospital, and I hadn’t shaved since before Christmas, but I didn’t care. “I’m running home for a couple hours, but text me the second anything happens, okay?”
Ferguson, one of my assistant coaches, clapped me on the back. “Will do. You deserve some time to yourself.”
“Seriously, text me the second you hear.”
“I will, man, don’t worry.” He smiled, the odd expression making lines appear around his eyes. I’d never seen him grin at me before, and I took a step back.
“Why are you happy?”
He snorted. “It’s been great seeing you be a leader. You know I’d follow you anywhere, but right now, this is a new side of you. Damned if I don’t respect you more.”
“Holidays got you feeling mushy, huh?” I ignored the tightness in my chest at his compliment.
“Damn family watched five Hallmark Christmas movies. I should put on some action or shoot-’em-up, bang-’em-up movies to get the feels out.”
“Nah, it’s good for the team.” I laughed. “I appreciate you saying that. Now I have something I gotta do.”
“I hope it’s a shower—no offense, dude.”
I waved goodbye with one place in mind: the sorority house.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
BECCA
Window replaced, check.
Floors vacuumed and Swiffer-ed, check.
Kitchen scrubbed, check.
I eyed my to-do list and sighed at all the check marks. Staying busy was key. It helped not to think about him or the fact it had been three days. Plenty of time to think about everything, like the New Year’s Eve date he’d said he’d attend. I either had to fake an illness or find a new date.
