Page 35

My fingers hovered over the keyboard before I typed out a text. I need to tell you something about the picnic.

I stared at the words. They looked small on the screen. Not nearly big enough to hold everything they meant.

If I sent this, I’d have to tell him I’d wanted his sister. That I’d shut her down to protect our friendship.

I couldn’t do this now, not when I’d made everything worse by ignoring Ellie’s medical advice and proving I didn’t respect her professionally.

I deleted the message and shoved my phone into my pocket.

Through the windshield, I could see the building entrance. Ellie would be in there, calling the coach. Updating my chart. Doing her job even though I’d just made it ten times harder.

I should go back inside. Apologize again. Tell her I’d follow every instruction from now on. But when I reached for the door handle, my hand stopped.

She’d told me to get out. Going back now would just prove all over again that I couldn’t listen, respect boundaries, or do the one thing she’d asked me to do.

So I sat in my truck with the engine off, watching the door.

Five minutes passed. Then ten.

I pulled up my phone and opened a new text to her. I should’ve told you the truth at the picnic. I should’ve…

My thumb hit send before I could finish the thought.

The message sat there, incomplete and pathetic, with the little delivered notification mocking me.

No response came.

Movement at the entrance made me look up. Ellie walked out with Crim. She said something, and he threw his head back, laughing that full-body sound he made when something truly surprised him.

She smiled at him, and even from here I could see it was real.

The smile she’d never given me except one—at the picnic. Before I said something flippant and hurt her.

Crim slung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close, being protective. She leaned into it, and my chest cracked clean through.

This was why I’d walked away at the picnic. This right here. The easy way they moved together, the obvious love between them. Crim was family to her in a way I’d never be.

And I’d chosen to preserve that. To protect what they had.

But watching them now, I wondered if I’d protected anything at all. Or if I’d just been too scared to risk being seen as something other than the weapon in the net.

Crim looked across the lot and spotted my truck. He lifted his hand in a wave.

I waved back, the motion automatic.

Ellie’s gaze followed his. For half a second, she looked right at me. Then she dragged her gaze away, said something to Crim, and headed for her car.

As her taillights disappeared around the corner, my phone buzzed with a text from Coach Beecham. Ellie says you reinjured yourself, that you’re out at least for game two. We need to know what we’re dealing with here. You’re booked for an MRI as soon as you show up.

I’ll go get it.

See that you do.

Another text came through, from Ellie. Ice your hip. 20 minutes on, 20 off.—Dr. Lundrig

Even though she was furious enough to kick me out, she was still telling me to ice my injury. I didn’t deserve that. Didn’t deserve her.

I read the text three times.