by Ella Maise
“What about him?”
“He got injured.”
Didn’t college football only happen on the weekends? It was only Thursday.
“When? I didn’t know you had a game today.”
“No game, just practice. He had a little trouble with his foot in the last game, but he said he was fine. Today one of the guys stepped on it wrong and now he has fucking a Lisfranc injury.”
“Lis—what? Is it bad?”
His eyes closed as he released a humorless laugh. “Is it bad? Yeah, it’s bad. He is done for the season. We don’t even know if he needs surgery yet. If he doesn’t, it’ll still take him at least five to six weeks to recover, and that’s me being a fucking optimist.” As an afterthought, he added, “It’s a foot injury.”
When he roughly scrubbed his face with his free hand, I gave the other one that was still holding mine a small squeeze. It was the wrong move, because it drew his attention back to our hands again.
“If he ends up needing the surgery…how long is the recovery time then?”
He met my eyes and I held my breath. Oh God… Jared was right; I loved his smile. I both hated and loved how I couldn’t stop myself from smiling back at him, but the look on his face when he was angry…it made me wish I had my camera with me so I could take a shot of him just like that and freeze time for us, a heartbeat I could carry in my pocket that would forever be mine.
“Five to six months,” Dylan replied, oblivious to my thoughts. “And even after that, no one can know for certain whether he’ll get back to his pre-injury state or not. Doesn’t even matter because he won’t make it to the combine either way.”
For the third time since I’d met him, I couldn’t look away from his eyes, and it wasn’t because we were having a staring contest. It had nothing to do with that; I just didn’t want to. I’m not sure if it was because of the vulnerability I could see in them or if it was the obvious pain and worry, but I couldn’t do it.
“Where is he?”
He was frowning at me but still answered my question. “Coach sent him home. He can’t bear weight on his leg.”
“And when will they know if he’ll need the surgery or not?”
“They need to run some tests. We should know more next week.”
“Don’t you want to be with him?” I asked tentatively.
His frown deepened. “He doesn’t want to see anyone. We were supposed to do this thing together. Now, with the timing of his injury, his entire career might be over. This whole goddamn year is—”
His phone must have been sitting next to him because the next thing I knew it was sailing in the air, heading toward the wall right in front of my eyes, until it thankfully came to a stop right after crashing into my equipment bag. If my bag hadn’t been in the way, with the force he’d thrown it, it would’ve been broken into a million pieces.
“I’m sorry, Dylan.” I gave his hand another squeeze, and this time he squeezed back. Only problem was, he never loosened his hold. Don’t get me wrong, he didn’t hurt me or anything, but that extra bit of squeeze caused my already pretty fast heart rate to kick up another notch.
Knowing nothing I could say would change anything or lighten his burden, I kept my mouth shut.
His eyes narrowed at me. “You’re not looking away.”
A tingle went through my body. “Should I?”
“You shouldn’t, but that hasn’t stopped you in the past.”
Time to change the subject.
“How long have you been sitting here?”
“I don’t know…ever since I got back, I guess.”
No point in asking what time that was. “Are you hungry?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? I make a mean grilled cheese, and I don’t do it for just anyone.” I gave him a small bump with my shoulder.
“And what makes me special?”
Good job, Zoe. Walked right into that one, didn’t you.
“I…uh…you’re…you know…you’re hungry.”
Lame. Lame. Lame.
The longer he looked at me, the easier it was to spot the twitching muscle in his jaw.
“That’s not much of an answer to my question. How about this question then? Maybe you’ll have a better answer for this one, what do you think?”
I was pretty sure I wouldn’t like the question, but… “What’s the question?”
“Are you still dating him?”
Where had that come from? “You like pushing me, don’t you?” I asked instead of mumbling something meaningless that would only be a lie. I tried to pull my hand away from his so I could walk away. So much for worrying about him.
His hold tightened to the point where my fingers tingled and goose bumps rose up on my arm. Then, just as quickly, it loosened.
“No,” he said roughly. “Stay.” It took only one word. I stayed until he was ready to let go.
I tried to get comfortable as we sat hand in hand. When he saw I wasn’t going anywhere and I wasn’t pulling back, his eyes closed and he rested his head against the wall, jaw still tight, teeth still grinding.
I didn’t know why, but I had a feeling it had cost him something to ask me to stay.
Chapter Fifteen
Zoe
I was doing it. I was really doing it.
I was about to board a plane with Mark, Chris, Dylan, and their whole freaking team.
We were supposed to take the same bus to the airport as the team, but both Miriam and the guy who was coming with us for the interviews, Cash, had been late. Instead of braving it and getting on the bus on my own, I’d opted to take an Uber to the airport with them.
As Cash and Miriam chatted away during the ride over, I was worrying about how my sudden appearance would go over. Neither Mark nor Dylan knew I was joining them for the game. I could’ve and should’ve told Dylan, but after the week he’d had with what had happened to his friend, I’d barely seen him after the night I’d found him sitting in the dark. Even when I did, he usually went to his room to crash as soon as he walked through the door.
That evening had been the second time we’d held hands for what seemed like hours and didn’t even acknowledge it afterward. I wasn’t sure if he saw it as a normal thing, but if you asked my heart and the butterflies that seemed to make a home in my stomach, it was very far from a normal occurrence. It didn’t help that I could still feel the impression of his hand around mine. If I made a fist, I could almost mimic the exact same pressure I’d felt when his hand had squeezed tight around mine.
Miriam’s bag bumped my shin as she wheeled her carry-on bag toward the escalator.
“Shit.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Zoe.” She stopped next to me and released a big sigh. “It’s lunchtime and I didn’t even have breakfast yet. Do you think they’ll give out snacks?”
“It’s not a commercial flight, so I doubt that.”
“You’re right, I guess. I’m hoping there is good food at—”
“What are you doing standing around? They’re waiting for us. Hurry up,” Cash yelled as he passed us in a slow jog. He was wearing a short trench coat even though it was still warm, and he had a wrapped burrito in one hand while he hugged his laptop to his chest, a duffel bag in the other. He was a complete mess.
“I call dibs,” Miriam said quietly, leaning toward me.
“What?”
“Cash—I call dibs on him,” she repeated before following the guy in question up the stairs.
She could have him, all right.
I took my sweet time getting up those steps, so it was no wonder I was the very last person to board the plane. I hated that the anticipation of Mark’s reaction was affecting me to the point that I was on the verge of dragging my feet like a six-year-old.
The plane was filled with chatter and guys…so many guys. Some were standing up, pushing their bags into the overhead bins, some were laughing, some singing.
When I saw that Cash and Miriam were still lingering where the rows of seats
started, I considered hiding behind them for a brief moment. If I ducked my head, there was a strong possibility that Mark wouldn’t see me, but then Miriam and Cash moved. If I didn’t want to run the last few steps that separated us—and I did not—I was doomed to make the walk down the aisle with my head held up high. He’d see me at the hotel anyway, and trying to hide made me feel stupid.
Feeling like I was getting ready to step in front of the firing squad, I squared my shoulders and started following my companions.
I spotted Mark before he could spot me. He was sitting right at the front in a window seat, and he was talking to another guy who I guessed was one of the other coaches. I was just walking past him when Miriam stopped in front of me. In my haste to escape, I bumped into her back, and she gave me a curious look over her shoulder. I mouthed an apology and made sure I had my back to Mark at all times.
My eyes slid to an older guy who had risen up from his aisle seat and put his hand on Cash’s shoulder.
“Boys!” he shouted. When the chatter didn’t quiet down, he tried again. “Hey!”
All eyes turned to us. The plane went silent, but there was definitely a roar in my ears. I didn’t know how many players traveled with the team, but to me, it looked and felt like there were hundreds of eyes on us. I swallowed the huge lump in my throat.
Out of the corner of my eye, I looked at Mark and saw that he was still deep in conversation with his seatmate.
“I want you to meet Cash. He is with the school’s paper and will be interviewing some of you.” He stopped yelling, turned to Miriam, and in a lower voice, asked her name. After her, it was my turn. I practically leaned all the way over Miriam to give him my name so Mark wouldn’t hear me, which was stupid since it was about to be shouted in a matter of seconds.
“And this is Miriam and Zoe. They’ll be taking photographs of you. Be nice to them—and when I say nice, I mean respectful. I don’t want to hear a single complaint.”
My mouth had gone dry, not only because I could feel Mark’s eyes boring into the side of my head as he realized I was on the plane, but also because this was my worst nightmare. Walking through rows and rows of seats where every single eyeball was on you? Yeah, I could already feel the heat on my cheeks.
When we finally started to walk, the chatter on the plane picked up again. On the way to our seats, which were at the very back of the plane, we got a few quiet whistles, a few casual greetings, and a few quiet murmurings about posing nude; as a reaction to the latter, I stepped on Miriam’s heels—twice.
We must’ve been only halfway to our seats when I heard his voice, and something melted in me.
“Zoe?”
I lifted my eyes up for the first time and met Dylan’s confused gaze. He was sitting in the middle seat when he called my name, and I watched him slowly take off his black headphones and stand up. Somehow seeing him centered something inside me. An unexpected warmth spread through my body and I was able to release a long breath.
“Hi,” I mumbled with a small wave, and when I realized Miriam and Cash were getting farther away from me, I pulled my carry-on behind me and started a jog to catch up. Looking over my shoulder, I made sure to send another quick wave Dylan’s way. I felt like a little baby duckling being left behind in the middle of nowhere, so it was important to catch up.
When we finally reached our seats, I was ready to shout hallelujah. After Cash helped us with our bags, he took the window seat. Miriam gave me a pointed look and followed him. I took the aisle seat.
“What’s wrong with you? You’re acting weird,” she whispered into my ear.
I clutched my bag to my stomach and gave her a small shrug. When I lifted my gaze over the seat in front of me, I realized Dylan was still standing up, his back to me. I watched him lean down and say something to his friend. Was it Chris sitting next to him? I hadn’t even noticed. In my panicked state, Dylan had been all I could see.
A moment later, he stepped into the aisle and started moving toward the back of the plane…toward me. It took him some time to reach us because he stopped to talk to his friends every now and then on his way.
Eventually, he stopped right next to my seat and I smiled up at him.
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
“What’s going on?”
My smile shifted from small to big. “Nothing.”
He laughed and shook his head. Holding on to my armrest, he crouched on his heels.
“You’re coming with the team? To photograph us?”
Forgetting all about Miriam and Cash, I turned my body to face him. He was pulling on me like a magnet, it seemed. I went to put my hands next to his, but they were in the way so I kept mine to myself. “Yeah. It’s for something the school paper is working on, I think. My photography professor asked us if we could go, so here we are.”
His eyes warmed. “Here you are. Why didn’t you tell me? Wait.” He stood up and lifted the headphones off the head of the guy sitting in the seat across the aisle from me. “Drew, take my seat.”
Just like that, the guy jumped up and Dylan took his place.
As he sat down, a flight attendant appeared from behind us.
With a smile fixed on her face, she said, “Seatbelts, please. We’ll be taking off in a few minutes.”
Nodding, I fastened my seatbelt, and Dylan did the same.
When our eyes met again, I smiled. “Hi.”
My heart leapt at the sight of his easy smile, always so open and warm.
“Hi yourself.”
“Dylan.”
The unexpected voice startled both of us.
“Get back to your seat. I need to talk to you and Chris about a few changes we’re going to make,” said Mark. I noticed the guy waiting just behind him, the one Dylan had swapped seats with. He looked just as uncomfortable as we did.
Intentionally, I kept my eyes on Dylan’s face and watched his brow draw together in confusion.
“Coach, we already have a meeting right after we—”
“Back to your seat, son.”
Son.
Was that his way of saying Dylan was off limits too? I couldn’t be friends or friendly with the guy he himself had sent to live with me? Sure, when he’d given him the apartment keys, he hadn’t expected me to be in the apartment, but still, I was living with the guy.
Dylan did what he asked and undid his belt to get up, but when his eyes found mine, he was still sporting a scowl. I dragged my eyes back to Mark then pointedly looked away before he could say anything.
It was after we had entered the hotel we’d be staying in for the weekend when I next saw Dylan and Chris. He broke off from his friends when he noticed me standing apart from Miriam and Cash and made his way to my side. He was wearing his black sweatpants, and I could’ve sworn he had a dozen or more of them in different shades of gray and black, just so he could make a girl go crazy. My personal favorite was the light gray. A tight black t-shirt covered his torso and pulled all the attention to his biceps and chest.
“Which room are you in?” he asked, head tilted, eyes on the envelope in my hand.
“Uh, let me check.” I forced my eyes away from his body and opened the envelope I’d picked up from a table where the hotel employees had lined up dozens of them. “Room 412. I’m sharing with Miriam.”
He gave me a chin lift. “We’re on the same floor. I’m with Chris.”
One of his teammates drew his attention by slapping his shoulder so he turned away. I looked around me. Mark was nowhere to be found, but the other coaches were busy trying to wrangle all the guys. Some of them were handing out sheets of paper while others were simply huddled together and talking. My eyes found Chris and when I saw him glancing my way, I forced a smile on my lips, not sure how I was supposed to react. Instead of smiling back like I’d hoped he would, he shook his head and turned back to talk to one of his friends. Feeling more and more alone by the second, I pulled my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans and sent a group text to Jared and
Kayla.
Me: Okay, we landed and made it to the hotel. There are so many people and I know no one other than Dylan. Oh, and Mark is pissed at me. When I say pissed, I mean PISSED! But I ignored him on the plane so be proud of me. I’m only texting you guys because I have no idea what I’m supposed to do and instead of standing in the middle of the lobby looking around like a little fish out of water, I need something to do with my hands. Write back so I can stop talking to myself like a weirdo and have a meaningful conversation with you guys instead. Quick. Quick.
“Here.”
Lifting my head, I saw that Miriam was handing me one of the papers the coaches were handing out.
I reached for it. “Thank you.” It was a detailed schedule of what the team was supposed to do and where they were supposed to be at any given moment.
“Cash wants us to take photos of their dinner, just how they interact I think, maybe get a few shots of everyone while they’re eating. After that, we’re free for tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll trail him and do whatever he asks us to do. He said it’ll mostly be meetings, warm-ups, and then the game. We’ll have a meeting of our own at breakfast and he’ll give us more details.”
I nodded and looked up from the detailed schedule. “Sounds good. I think I’m going to skip snack time and head up to our room. Are you coming?”
She looked over her shoulder to where Cash was talking with one of the players. “I think I’ll stick around.”
“Okay then,” I murmured to myself when she walked away after a quick wave.
Dragging my teeth along my lip, I looked around again. Half of the players were already gone. I saw a few standing around the elevators and a few walking toward the back of the hotel where I assumed the snacks were waiting, if the sign with the team logo and Meal Room written on it was anything to go by. I glanced around to see if I could spot Dylan, but with lobby still being so busy, I’d lost him. Pulling my carry-on behind me, I headed toward the elevators.
My phone pinged with a new message.
I let out a huge breath and filed into the elevator with three other players. Even though they were talking among themselves about the following day’s game, I could still feel their curious eyes on me. Ducking my head, I focused on my phone.