Like that was possible.
Every muscle ached with that post-panic exhaustion, the kind that made your bones feel heavy. Even my eyes hurt. Not the eyelids, but the fucking eyeballs.
The door creaked open. Matty’s silhouette filled the frame, backlit by the hall light.
“Hey,” he said quietly. “You awake?”
I didn’t move. “Yeah.”
He stepped inside, closing the door most of the way behind him so the room stayed dim. “Coach said you’re off the next three days. No arguments. They’re also flying out the teampsychologist tomorrow if you want to talk to them, but no pressure.”
I exhaled through my nose. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine, man.” There was a sharpness to his tone, one that I didn’t typically hear from the sweet, Southern boy. “You scared the shit out of all of us.”
“I know,” I choked out. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Just let us help. Even if that only means letting me sit here so you’re not alone in the dark like some tragic country song.”
I almost laughed.Almost.
“I appreciate it, Matty, but Iwantto be alone.”
Silence stretched between us for about five seconds, and then—
“Did you talk to Bella?”
My stomach twisted.
“No.”
“She’s probably losing her mind wondering what’s going on.”
“She doesn’t need to know.” The words came out sharper than I meant. “She’s got enough going on. Last thing she needs is me dragging her down with this.”
I didn’t tell him that I had been avoiding her texts for nearly forty-eight hours already. That I had been straight-up spiraling since I’d realized how much she meant to me. Bringing up a future together was scary enough, and now this? It wasn’t fair to put all of that on her, not now. Not when things were still light and new between us.
Matty shifted his weight. I could hear the patience fraying at the edges of his voice. “You know that’s not how this works, man. You don’t get to decide what she can and can’t handle. That’s her call. And keeping her in the dark isn’t protecting her; it’s just isolating yourself. You can’t just shut her out anytime it gets scary.”
Something hot flared in my chest. Anger. Fear. With a shame cherry on top.
“And what wouldyouknow about scary?” I regretted the words the second they spilled out of me, but that didn’t matter. I was hurting and Matty was in my direct line of fire. “I don’t need relationship advice from the guy who’s too chickenshit to meet up with the guy he’s been crushing on for months.”
The room went dead quiet.
Matty didn’t fight me. He just stood there for a long second, then said, very quietly, “Yeah, you’re right.”
He turned toward the door.
“Matty,” I started, sitting up so quickly my head spun. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“I get it.” His hand paused on the knob. “Doesn’t make it hurt any less. Get some rest. I’ll be in the living room if you change your mind.”
The door clicked shut behind him.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity fuck.
I sat there in the dark, heart hammering again. But it wasn’t panic this time; it was guilt.
