I don’t know her name—pretty sure she’s a junior but she gives me a sympathetic smile. I thank her and shoot her a wink. Then immediately question myself, why the fuck did I wink? Did that seem flirty?
This whole Rachel thing is messing with me. I’m usually cool. Confident. Untouchable. Nothing gets under my skin because I always get what I want. But right now I don’t, and worse I have no idea how to get it and it’s driving me fucking insane.
I walk through the door, throwing my keys on the little side table. Shelby and Christian relax on the couch with Seth seated in the single recliner watching the morning news and sports highlights. No wonder Christian didn’t want to have breakfast with the team when he can have ‘let me make you feel better’ sympathy morning sex with his hot girlfriend.
Seth did some serious defending last night and ended the night being sore. He went to bed with ice strapped to him in two areas, pain killers, and a shot of whiskey, so I knew he wouldn’t make breakfast. Even now he’s reclined in his chair, an icepack on his shoulder.
“Seen the latest post?” Christian asks, and I know exactly what post he is referring to.
“Yep,” I groan, leaning against the doorframe. “He is such a dick! The Cyclones better not win the championship this weekend!” I say, folding my arms over my chest.
“I don’t know if I can even bring myself to watch it, just in case they do win,” Christian says, shaking his head in disgust.
“It’s going to be shit if they win,” I mumble. “He’s always been a massive shit stirrer, taking every opportunity to antagonize me. Imagine how bad it will be if they win!”
“Let’s hope they lose!”
Shelby leans forward. “Speaking of Instagram and changing the subject from this team rivalry. I was thinking of starting up a proper Instagram account for myself. One that actually has photos and my name and stuff.”
Christian looks toward her with an impressed smile. “That’s great, babe, I would love for you to do that. Taking your life back. I’m so proud of you and how strong you are.” He throws his good arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.
“Just make sure you add me as your first official friend,” I say with a grin.
Shelby graces me with a smile.
“You wish,” Christian adds.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I quickly retrieve it, only to be once again disappointed. “Have any of you heard from Rachel?” I ask as I stand in the doorway, staring at my phone in bewilderment. “I have been texting her all yesterday and thismorning and I haven’t got one message back. My phone calls have gone to voicemail and I’m really starting to worry.”
Shelby’s blue eyes meet mine from across the living room, a flicker of confusion mirroring my own. “Umm, yes… actually,” she says hesitantly. “She texted me yesterday. Said she couldn’t meet us to get into the stadium early, and that she wouldn’t be able to meet me at the players’ door last night either.”
An ache pulls at my heart with the realization she has been texting Shelby, and I know my phone is working because it hasn’t fucking stopped going off. “Okay, well, at least I know she is alive, but then why the fuck isn’t she replying to me?” I say, staring down at my phone like somehow it magically holds the answers. The more I stand there thinking about it, the more frustrated I get. “I’m going over to her place to see what is going on,” I say, reaching for my keys in the bowl. The jacket hanging above the keys catches my eye as I turn back to the living room. “Whose is that?” I point to Christian and the jacket he is wearing.
“What? My jacket?” he says, looking down at his clothes. “It’s mine,” he says with a confused look.
“Well, whose is that?” I say, pointing to the one hanging neatly on the hook in the foyer.
“I thought it was yours,” he replies.
“No, I lent mine to Rachel,” I say, my finger still hovering mid-air and pointing toward the jacket.
“No, Rachel returned yours yesterday before the game.”
“What!” I question. “When?”
“She stopped by as we were leaving,” Shelby answers.
“We met her in the driveway. I told her to head straight on in because you and Seth were just in the kitchen making breakfast. Didn’t she say hi?” Christian finishes.
I looked at Seth, at the same time he puts the pieces together. I see it as his eyes go wide. “Fuck,” I yell as I drag myhands through my hair. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I yell some more as I pace the small hallway. The urge to punch something builds. “Shit,” I yell even louder as my fist goes through the drywall in the hallway. I feel the rush of pain shoot up my arm as I feel the emptiness of the wall on the other side.
“Jesus,” Shelby yells, shooting to her feet.
“Fuck, man!” Seth says, coming over to my side and inspecting the wall.
“What the fuck is wrong?” Christian says, walking over to me and standing next to Shelby.
Shelby studies my face and reaches for my damaged hand and I know she can see the guilt in my eyes. “What did you do?”
