“She’s not going to lie for you. You know that, right? Like . . . you have to put in the work.”
My stomach twists with a new pain. I feel defensive, perhaps protective. My brother, more than anyone, should understand how delicate and complex our relationship with Colby and her father is. He can’t ask something like this of her.
“Pssh, I’m not you. She’ll want to get rid of me,” he says, waving his hand. His eyes never veer from his phone screen, so I sit up to make him look me in the eyes.
“Adriel, she’s not going to cheat for you. She’s going to do her job. And you asking her to . . . what . . .sell her boss on fucking fiction about you. . . is not cool. No, it’s fucking bullshit, is what it is. I won’t let you?—”
He lowers his phone so his gaze hits mine, and his mouth forms a strong line. Several seconds pass with zero words between us, and slowly, I understand.
I won’t do shit. Because Adriel knows about us.
I jet from the bed and grab my phone, wallet and key card, leaving my brother to gloat and pull an all-nighter on his own.
“I have to go. Just . . . don’t do anything stupid.Morestupid,” I say over my shoulder.
I let my door fall shut and head back to the stairwell, climbing the steps two at a time until I get to Colby’s floor. I tap on her door gently at first, not wanting to scare her or wake up the entire floor, but when nearly a minute passes, I give her door a solid knock.
“Who is it?” she shouts. I can sense the panic in her voice.
“It’s me. Hurry,” I say, stepping in close to her door so I’m out of view from the hallway.
Her door lock disengages, and I practically fall over my feet when she opens the door. I push the door closed and take her hand, leading her back to bed. She’s giggling softly, dragging her feet, and it would be cute if I weren’t so upset with my brother right now and the situation he’s put us in.
“Again?” she says as I bury us under the covers. I pull her body into mine and hold her close.
“Adriel knows.”
I get the news out in the open fast. If I don’t just blurt it out, I know I will struggle. But the sudden rigidity of her body, the lack of movement in her lungs, makes me wonder if perhaps I should have eased her into the knowledge.
“Knows . . . what?” Her voice crackles with sleepiness and, I think, nerves.
“About us. He . . . he was in my room when I got there. Waiting. And I tried to lie, but he’s my fucking brother. He can read me like a book. And he knows.”
Colby snuggles deeper into my chest, pressing her cheek against my heart, her hands balled into fists under her chin. I squeeze her to me, syncing my deep breaths with hers.
“Is he going to say anything?” she finally asks.
I shake my head, then speak, “I don’t think so.”
“Think?” She picks up on my hedged language.
I draw in a long breath, sorting through the facts mentally before laying the situation out for her completely.
“He wants to get moved back up before the Pitt series. He’s trying to get leverage for free agency, and a good series against Pitt would set up his numbers for some of the teams they’re looking at.”
I figured it out on my own. I get the business of this game. I know when I finally get called up for good, it’s going to becomejust as important as my stats. Only, where Adriel fails—attitude, teamwork, humility—I intend to excel. And I can’t help but believe that will get me further in the long run.
“Coach wants me to get him out of here, fast,” she says.
I saw them talking at dinner. I assumed.
“Can you?” I kiss the top of her head and let my eyes fall shut.
She doesn’t answer for nearly a minute, and I assume she’s fallen asleep, until finally she lets out a heavy breath.
“Maybe.”
And I know what that word really means. If Adriel does the work. If my brother earns it.
