I wait for him to respond, but my screen stays quiet.
I tell myself it’s nothing. He’s probably still in the locker room. Probably talking to the trainers. Certainly, everything is fine.
Still, that uneasy feeling lingers as I unlock my car and slide into the driver’s seat.
The drive over doesn’t take long, but I keep glancing at my phone at every red light like it’s going to light up any second. It doesn’t.
I park along the street and head inside.
The house is already packed. Music thumps from a speaker shoved against the far wall, bass vibrating through the floor. The kitchen is crowded, with people spilling into the living room, red cups in hand.
Wren spots me almost immediately and throws her arm up.
“Brinley!” she yells over the music. “Thank God. Come help us with drinks.”
I weave my way through clusters of people dancing and talking over each other until I reach the breakfast bar. Wren’s standing there with another girl who introduces herself as Wren’s roommate, Alisa, before handing me a plastic cup as well.
I set my bag down and roll up my sleeves, falling into step beside them while they mix a questionable neon liquid in a giant cooler. I don’t know what’s in it, but the smell of alcohol hits hard enough to make my eyes water.
I keep glancing toward the door without meaning to, half expecting it to open and for Cooper to walk in like everything’s normal.
Ten minutes go by. Then twenty.
The music gets louder. The room gets warmer.
Talon shows up first, then Kade and Owen right behind him. All three of them talk over each other about a play from the third period like they’re still on the ice.
I want to pull one of them aside and ask where Cooper is, but I don’t.
I don’t want to be that girl. The one pacing by the door. The one who’s obsessing over her crush. We’re not even a couple, not yet anyway, so it’s not like he owes it to me to keep me updated on what’s going on.
So I grab a cup, pretend I’m listening, and keep telling myself he’ll walk in any second.
I double-check that my phone is set to vibrate before I busy myself with cups that don’t need refilling. My mind starts spinning on reasons he’s not here with his friends.
Did something happen after the game?
Is he having car trouble, or could his phone have died?
Did my father say something to him?
I don’t know how much his friends know, though I’d argue they know something, since Wren told him she’d seen me leaving his office the other day.
I don’t want to say the wrong thing or drag them into it if this is nothing, so I stay quiet.
I’m not in the mood to drink, but when someone presses a cup into my hand, I take it. I let it sit there, fingers wrapped around the plastic, as if it gives me something to do to keep my eyes from drifting toward the door.
I check my phone again.
Still nothing.
The music pounds through the kitchen. People shout over it, laughing too loud. It feels like the whole room is moving, and I’m just… standing in it.
Wren catches my eye from across the counter. “You okay?” she mouths.
I nod automatically. It’s easier than trying to explain the tightness in my chest. Easier than admitting I can’t shake the feeling that something feels off.
I don’t want to be the girl who brings the mood down. Not when everyone’s celebrating. Not when I’m already carrying around the weight of who my father is and what that might mean for the man I’m starting to fall for.
