Page 32 of Line Change

I lean over, peel her hands off her face, and take them between mine, noting how cold they are. I wonder if they’re always this cold. Not the time nor the place to ask.

“It’s worth it. Trust me.” She nods. “We do whatever you think is best. I’ll follow your lead. Our friends will probably be suspicious, so I think it’s better to clue them in. They’re pretty good at keeping secrets when they need to.”

My lips tip up into a smirk thinking about how, over the summer, Holt hatched an elaborate plan to get Hadley, his sister, fake engaged to one of our other best friends, Wes, because he knew they had feelings for each other but were too stubborn to do anything about it.

Sometimes you just need a little help from your friends or from the universe.

I ignore that thought. That’s not what’s going on here. There’s no way things between Sutton and I could work out. Even if I want it to. I’m leaving at the end of the season.

She stares down at where I’m still holding her hands. “We should tell them.” She takes a deep breath. “How do we want to get married? Go down to the courthouse and get a license tomorrow? There’s a waiting period in Florida, I checked, but we could get married by the end of the week.”

I clear my throat.

“Do you think going to a courthouse would be suspicious to your grandmother’s lawyer?”

She’s quiet for a few seconds. “It might be.”

“What if we organize something small with our friends over the break? I’m sure they’d go along with it, especially if we told them why.” I’m thankful that none of us in my core friend group got selected for the All-Star team this year.

“I’d like that.”

I squeeze her hands for a few seconds longer before forcing myself to let go of them so it doesn’t become awkward. “Guess we’re getting married.”

She traces a pattern on the table with her finger. “What about …”

“What about what?” I prompt.

“Affection? I’m assuming we’ll have to kiss at the wedding, which I’m fine with if you are. And holding hands, hugs, and touching is fine.” She blushes. “PG-rated touching I mean.”

“Are you sure you don’t mean other kinds of touching?” I bounce my eyebrows at her, smirking. I know I probably shouldn’t say it, but I do. I know I’m leaving but still doesn’t stop me from wanting her, as selfish as that sounds. And I don’t think I’ll ever stop wanting her. Maybe it’s good that I’m leaving, because then I won’t have to walk into the arena one day and see her with another guy.

“I think it’s best if we keep sex off the table. I don’t have the best track record.”

I jerk backward. “You can’t get pregnant a second time.”

She huffs a laugh. “No shit, but unlike the last time, this is more complicated. We’re friends.”

I raise my hands in surrender. “Whatever you want. I’ll follow your lead. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” She blushes. “I’ll get my lawyer to draw up the papers tomorrow.”

“What about an end date? How do we want to handle that?”

I’m silent for a few beats, contemplating her question. “Well, to be honest”—I peer down at the table—“I’m probably leaving at the end of the season. Retiring.”

“You’re what? Why? You’re only thirty-two. You’ve got plenty of years left. Are you hurt?”

I meet her eyes, giving a half shrug. “No, I’m not hurt. My mum needs me back home.”

“Oh …”

“The end date could be whenever I leave for England, or a bit after if you want to give a reason we’re divorcing.” I frown down at the table.

“End of the season is what I was going to suggest.” She puts a hand on my arm. “You don’t sound too happy about leaving.”

I shrug again. “Someone has to take over …” So she doesn’t sell it.

“I understand, but do you want to take it over?”

I’m silent for a few beats, contemplating how to respond. “Doesn’t matter. It’s my duty as the oldest. My middle sister’s pregnant, and she and her husband already run his family’s farm. My youngest sister has no desire to be a farmer. That leaves me.”