“Let it go, Will,” Silas casually warns me, eyes fixed firmly on the game. “The last thing you need is to get into it with your teammate and find yourself on the trade list.”
I tear my eyes from Tristan, hating that I’m the first to look away. “He was the one who posted our messages on social media.”
Silas shakes his head. The night Drew left me standing in the street, it wasn’t long before my captain was on the phone, asking what the fuck was happening. He’s now heard the theory about Tristan swiping my phone in the locker room at least a half dozen times, yet he still isn’t buying it.
“Believe it or not, Tristan values his career and place on the team way more than he does bringing you and your girlfriend down for having a secret relationship.”
I scoff. “He basically accused me of being the reason why Candice quit her job. I haven’t spoken to or even seen her in weeks.”
Silas’s head darts to me. “Quit? I just got a massage from her last night. She said nothing about quitting. In fact, she just accepted a promotion to senior therapist.”
If I wasn’t sitting in a packed arena, I would take Tristan out right now.
“He told me that she’d left the PT team and claimed it was my fault.”
My captain clears his throat. “And why would he do that? Do you and Candice have a history?”
I close my eyes, thinking back to the disappointed look in Drew’s eyes that day she showed up at my apartment and discovered me hooking up with Candice instead of meeting her at Riley’s Bar.
Such a fucking jackass.
“You know what?” Silas continues. “I actually don’t want to know if you’ve played around with my PT. It’s none of my business.”
I bite down on the inside of my cheek. “My history is irrelevant anyway.”
“Why?”
Like a slideshow seeking to torment me for all the times I’ve let Drew down, my girl’s face flashes before me.
“Because this time next year, I’ll be a married man.”
Me
Hey, Baby, I don’t know if you’re at home right now, but if you are, can you head downstairs? There’s a delivery waiting for you.
Only five minutes pass before Drew responds, although it feels like about five hours.
Drew
WILL. What am I supposed to do with all of this???
She attaches a picture of two large crates of chocolate brownie ice cream, and I can just imagine her face when she saw it—a combination of delight and pure disdain for my impractical gift.
Drew
My freezer isn’t big enough.
Me
You could … always store the rest in my freezer?
Drew
Is this your way of getting me to come over?
Me
No, that would be too manipulative for my style. I prefer the direct approach.
