“Clark—”
“April, I’m okay. I promise.” He catches my hands, holding them against his chest. His heart is racing beneath my palms. “Really.”
The team doctor appears. “A mild bump to the ‘ole noggin.He’s done for the night, but no hospital visit is needed. Just rest and monitoring.”
“We’re up by three points. They’ve got this,” Clark says.
The doctor leaves to check on something and it’s just us in the small medical room. Me standing between Clark’s legs, my hands still pressed to his chest. Him looking up at me with green eyes that faintly twinkle.
“You came,” he says softly.
“Of course I came. You scared me half to death.”
“Sorry.” His thumbs trace circles on the backs of my hands. “Didn’t mean to worry you.”
“Too late for that.”
We’re close enough that I can count his freckles, see the exact moment his pupils dilate. Close enough to kiss him if I just leaned forward a few inches.
But I don’t. Because we’re “taking a step back.” Because we’re “just friends.”
Because I’m terrified.
“April—” he starts, but the door bursts open.
Coach Badaszek appears, takes one look at us, and raises an eyebrow. “Culpepper, you all right?”
“Yes, Coach.”
“Good. Because we just won. Playoffs are secured.” He looks at me. “Stay with him tonight and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid,” Tommy Badaszek barks.
“I—yes. Of course.”
He nods once and disappears.
Clark laughs softly. “Coach always knows.”
“Knows what?”
“Everything.” His expression turns serious. “April, we need to talk.”
“We do. But not here. Not now.” I step back, creating thedistance we both claimed we need. “Let’s get you to the hotel. You should get some rest.”
“April—”
“Please, Clark. Not here.” I can’t handle an arena full of people seeing me cry. Then again, I somehow survived them seeing us on the kiss cam.
He nods, understanding or at least accepting my request. “Okay. At the hotel.”
But when we get there, everything falls apart for different reasons.
“I’m so sorry,” the desk clerk says, typing frantically. “There was a system error. We only have one room available, and it’s, well, it’s not what you booked.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“It’s a king suite instead of the two adjacent rooms with queen beds that you reserved. She winces—we have certain rooms that allow dogs, but there is only one left. I can try other hotels in the area, but with the game tonight, everything is pretty booked?—”
“It’s fine,” Clark says tiredly. “We’ll take it.”
