Page 121 of Risking the Pucking Defense

Beside me, Brody puts his AirPods in and folds his arms across his chest—not that I’d try to spark a conversation with him. I learned that lesson a long time ago.

My body aches, desperate to get some rest, but my head has other ideas.

Despite Hailee calling me before both games, things are still different between us. There’s a distance, and not just a physical one, that wasn’t there before I left.

Something has happened; I just don’t know what.

I’ve pretty much convinced myself that the second I land, she’s going to tell me everything that’s happened between us has been a massive mistake, and I’ve got to forget all about it.

While I might understand why she would want to do that, I already know that I won’t be able to. Our time together, her support, has meant everything to me.

I’ll be okay without her. It’s not like I ever really had her in the first place. What we had was nothing more than a fantasy, I’m more than aware of that. I have been from that very first night. I just…I don’t want to let her go.

I glance at the time, but it’s too late to message her now.

There was a message waiting for me after our game earlier, but my reply has not gotten a response. I should be used to it by now. It’s pretty much been the same since I left LA.

Trying to ignore my need to reach out to her, I pull my Kindle from my bag and attempt to distract myself with my book, but the awareness that we’re now reading the same book means she’s always there in my thoughts.

More than once, I want to highlight a sentence or two and send them to her like I used to do with Rylee, but I hold myself back. Firstly, because I’m pretty sure I’ve overtaken her, and I don’t want to spoil anything, but also because I fear that she doesn’t want to hear from me.

The flight seems to go on forever, and by the time we land and everyone wakes up, they’re all grumpy and ready for their own beds.

I drive home in the dead of night, hating that I’m about to walk into a cold and empty apartment. I’ve always wondered what it must feel like to have someone excited to see you walk through the front door, someone who doesn’t care that you’re stumbling in in the middle of the night because you’re more important than sleeping.

I carry my luggage into the elevator of my building, my need to shower and then crawl into bed growing. I turn the final corner that will lead me to my apartment, my eyes on the floor as I juggle with my luggage, trying to dig my keys out of my rucksack.

I’m so busy cursing myself out that I don’t notice someone standing at my front door. It’s not until I’m almost there that movement ahead of me finally makes me look up.

My breath catches, and everything in my hands crashes to the floor.

“Hails?” I whisper, scared that I’m imagining things.

I search her face, taking in her red-rimmed eyes that are full of tears, her pale skin, and her petite body that’s swamped by a giant hoodie.

“Shit. What’s wrong?” I ask, my stomach sinking to my feet.

I’ve known that something is wrong, but she’s refused to talk to me, to open up. I assumed that was because she didn’t want to, that she was cutting ties. But she’s here. She’s standing at my apartment door, waiting for me. She’s also on the verge of breaking down.

“Can I…can I come in?” she asks, glancing at my apartment door.

It’s nothing like hers. It’s not new with a shiny chrome number on it. In fact, it’s the complete opposite. The paint is chipped, and one of my numbers has lost its screw and is now almost upside down. And my apartment inside isn’t much better. I don’t have the space she does, the nice furniture, or the gorgeous balcony. Mine is full of thrift store finds, and my view is a brick wall. It’s not exactly something to be proud of.

“Um…” I hate that I second-guess allowing her into my space. I know she won’t judge me for it, I just…I don’t want to have a memory of her dumping me in my own home.

“Please, Hayden.”

“Shit,” I hiss, unable to deny her anything. “Come on,” I say after finally locating my keys, gathering up all my stuff, and pushing the door open.

Hailee follows me inside silently, and I don’t dare look back to see the expression on her face as she looks around.

I dump all my stuff in the kitchen as Hailee slips past me into the living room.

“Did you want a drink?” I ask, aware that I probably only have bottles of water in the fridge.

“No, I’m okay.”

Sucking in some strength, I turn to look at her.