Ophelia.
The thought of her steadied me for half a second. The girl who caused everything to make sense. She didn’t seem to like me for what I might be someday. She looked at me like I was already it.
For the first time, my future wasn’t just about me…it was aboutus.
Which meant I couldn’t afford to let it fall apart.
I shook my head, started the engine, and pulled out of the lot. My phone buzzed against the console. I stared at it for a long second before calling my agent instead.
He answered on the second ring. “Matty? What’s up?”
“Hey,” I said, trying to sound like I didn’t care either way. “Any new offers come in?”
A pause. “Not since the last one. You thinking about leaving early?”
The question hit harder than I expected.
That had never been the plan.
From the start, it had always been me, Parker, and Jace, four years, side by side, before the draft would pull us in different directions. We’d promised ourselves that. Finish what we started. Go out together.
But now, I didn’t know.
The ground beneath everything felt unsteady, and for the first time, I wasn’t sure if keeping that promise was smart—or suicidal.
If that story grew legs, if reporters kept sniffing around, if the NCAA started investigating…it wouldn’t matter that I’d said no. The whole team could go down with it. And my dad? He’d sell his soul before taking the blame.
Leaving early might be the only way to get clear before the fallout hits. To get somewhere new, sign a contract, and stockpile enough money to protect the people I cared about.
Safer.
Cowardly maybe, but safer.
“I don’t know,” I said finally, my voice rough. “Just…keep an eye out, okay? Let me know if anything comes up. Anything.”
“Sure thing,” he said carefully. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I lied.
I hung up before he could ask more.
I didn’t know what I was doing…just that I needed options. Money. Security. A plan.
Something to hold on to if everything else went to hell.
I had so much to lose.
And I wasn’t letting anyone take it.
CHAPTER 22
OPHELIA
Ilay in Matty’s bed, the sheets cool and silky against my bare skin, every nerve humming with anticipation. He’d told me about the spare key—tucked under a fake rock by the back door—and I’d found it easily, my fingers trembling as I slipped it into the lock.
I was glad I hadn’t known where it was before. If I had, I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself from sneaking in months ago, from crawling into his space, his life, long before he’d ever noticed me. The thought sent a shiver through me, equal parts shame and thrill.
Once inside, I’d lost myself in him.
