Page 74 of Risking the Pucking Defense

Thankfully, no one stops me to talk, and in only a few minutes, I walk out the main entrance and into the humid evening air.

My cell buzzes and my heart jumps into my throat. But it soon sinks again.

Mom: You look so handsome tonight. I hope it all goes well. We miss you x

I blow out a long, slow breath and close my eyes as they begin to pool with tears.

I remember the wide smile on Rylee’s face this time last year as I walked into this very event with her on my arm. She was so excited, and I was proud to have her by my side, to experience the start of my next chapter together.

I wasn’t stupid. I knew the end was coming. Rylee had been battling for years. Every time we thought she’d beaten it and that she’d be able to live a normal life again, another symptom would pop up, and ultimately, it would lead to another diagnosis. It was just an endless vicious cycle that barely ever let up. I don’t know how she kept going. She was always so positive, so happy and smiley even after receiving the worst of news. I wish I could have seen it that way. Instead, every time we were delivered bad news, all I could focus on was everything I was going to lose.

Forcing myself to keep breathing, I send a message back, telling them how much fun I’m having and that I miss them too. The last thing I want is for them to be worrying about me. They both have lives to rebuild. They’ve given so much of themselves to both Rylee and me over the years. Despite her illness, they never forgot about me or let me down. They always made sure I was at practice on time, and they were there at games. They’ve supported me all the way, and all while ensuring Rylee was as cared for as possible.

Of course, it all came with sacrifices—and not just emotional ones, but financial ones too.

It was only in the last few years that I discovered the extent of it. And the moment I did, I knew that I had to do whatever possible to get myself drafted. My family needed the money. My parents didn’t deserve to spend the rest of their lives drowning in debt for ensuring that Rylee had the best possible medical care and chances at kicking cancer’s ass.

I like to think that they provided her with a few extra years. That we all got a little extra time as a family. But that doesn’t make it any less painful or easy to take.

The clock ticks down to my car’s arrival, and my unease over the message I sent to Hailee increases.

She still hasn’t read it. What if she doesn’t?

Then maybe it’s a sign that it’s not meant to be.

Unable to sit still, I begin marching back and forth, nervous energy coursing through my veins as thoughts of what the rest of my night could look like race through my head.

If she comes, where will I take her?

I can’t take her back to my place. It’s not even close to being good enough. Would it be rude to suggest we go to hers? I can’t take her to a hotel; she’ll assume I only want one thing. And yes, okay, while I would fucking love that, I’m also not opposed to just hanging out with her.

Before I know it, my cell is telling me that my car is arriving any minute, and there’s still no sign of Hailee—not that I’m expecting there to be. She still hasn’t read my message.

I debate calling her, forcing her away from whatever conversation she might be having. Or canceling the car and going in to find her.

Before I make a decision, a Tesla is heading right for me, and I know my time is up.

Hayden: The car is here. I’ll make him wait for five.

And I do. I put a timer on, and I wait.

It’s the longest five minutes of my life. And it only gets worse when those two gray ticks turn blue, telling me she’s read my messages.

I wait, barely able to breathe with my eyes locked on the entrance to the hotel, waiting for her to burst through any moment, looking hot as hell in that smoking red dress.

But it never happens.

She doesn’t come.

And when the timer goes off on my cell, I instruct the driver to leave. Forcing myself not to look back.

22

HAILEE

Iopen the two messages from Hayden, and my heart lurches the moment I realize that his five-minute warning came through four minutes ago.

My head spins, my eyes landing on the doors.