"Trying to psych myself up for this, Coach," I grumbled.
"What? Why?" She flicked her glossy, almost-black ponytail over her shoulder.
I stared. "The quarterback?" I pointed at her and added, "and not Seager."
"I thought you were over Mick." She held out her hands. "You made an announcement and everything."
"Ha ha. I am. Doesn’t mean Iwantto see him."With other girls around him. Wearing his tight football pants. And if he has that just-right amount of scruff on his face…I stuffed the feelings down. All of them. Way way down.
"And so we’re back to being a child," she said to the ceiling. "It’s a game, Ella. You’ll see him a few times in the huddle and maybe receive a pass or two from the guy. The football kind, not like a dating flirting thing."
I gave her a dark look that I’d hoped would melt her into goo.
"But who knows whatcouldhappen if you come to thegroup date afterward." She pressed her lips together and raised an eyebrow.
"No way," I said with a groan. "I’ll make a donation to the charity, but I’m not going to that thing. I have a date with a hot shower and jammies. That's my definition of ‘why choose.’"
"Too bad the ‘spa-like showers’ are only in the locker rooms."
"Yeah," I sighed. "When we’re there, though, it’s always a rush to get out."
"So you’re good?" She zipped her sky-blue bomber jacket. "Psyched up and ready?"
A cold pit formed in my chest. "Don’t say it."
"Cause it’sAll-Americantime." She punctuated the statement with jazz hands.
I rolled my head back on the edge of my bed and closed my eyes. "Just stop. It was amazing last year, but I was running on anger. It wasn’t healthy and I was burning out. Maddox helped me realize that." I sat up, again, staring at my knees.And then he left. God, he must’ve thought I was so needy.My stomach squirmed again until it flipped over.
"Yeah yeah, heard this one. Although I’ve gotta say, you went totally overboard on the therapy thing. You didn’t need all that. Softball season’s always stressful. You just had to get some rest."
I shrugged, turning my attention back to my shoestrings. Kanami was mostly raised in Texas, but her father was old school—straight from Japan. Pretty sure he was cut from the cloth where sabisu zangyo was a way of life. Kanami's own work ethic was next-level, and not up for discussion.
"I still like the mindfulness exercises."Helps me deal with you.
"Whatever. Let's go already." She huffed and turned on her heel.
I found my feet and trailed after her, my cleats clacking on the linoleum with every step.
Snagging my duffel bag, I caught up to her in the apartment parking lot. The crisp February air bit at my fingers. I shuddered. My breath puffed and curled away. "Ugh, should've grabbed my—" I caught the tight set of Kanami's mouth and her narrow-eyed gaze, and stopped.
Last year, I would have taken it on myself to try to snap her out of her mood—sat in the passenger's seat, letting her vent, while ignoring the emotions that whirled and burned through me.This is a boundary.
The door locks clicked. I stepped back. "Hey, I'm going back for my coat. I'll meet you."
"Fine," she said and disappeared into her expensive sports coupe. I jogged back to our apartment, dropping my duffel on the porch as I pulled open the door.
The quiet greeted me like a longtime friend.
"Ella…” he whispered.
"It wasn't real." My breath shushed in the silence as I closed my eyes and tried to conjure the feel of his arms…the warmth of being tucked against him. Waiting. Breathless. Certain.
Instead, my mind tortured me with the last time I saw him.
“I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.” Maddox pulled his jeans over his legs and stood from the couch.
“Go? But…we were just…about to?”Weren’t we?
