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Shit. Why did I come? Why not wait until after the championship?

“You look kind of pale.” Brynn frowns, peering up at me. “Are you okay?”

“Clammy, too,” Charlotte pauses to check my forehead with the back of her hand.

I shake my head, choking over the nerves tangling in my chest and rising into the base of my throat. “Um, I am feeling a little woozy. Is there a bathroom here?” I ask, my breathing shallow.

“Of course.” Brynn points. “At the end of the hall, past the coat closet,” she says, returning worried eyes on me. “Do you want one of us to go with you?”

“Oh, no!” I rush to say, risking another glance toward Damon who’s too busy pounding a glass of punch to notice my arrival. “I’ll be fine,” I say with a shaky smile. “It’s just nerves. Just give me a minute to shake it off.”

When the two of you aren’t around and can’t hear what he might say to me.

I flash them an unconvincing smile before I run off, bolting for the hallway and shutting myself inside the tiny bathroom, feeling only a little unhinged. The heels of my shoes click on the tile floor as I hurry toward the sink. Gripping the sides of the porcelain, I let the cool, hard surface ground me as I stare up at my reflection.

I never intended to become friendly with his teammates’ girlfriends, but I also never expected them to be so sweet and inviting. I certainly never expected to form a genuine connectionwith these girls. And now, the way I see it, I have two choices. Go back inside and leave with the excuse that I’m sick, so I can approach him alone and maintain my budding friendship with these ladies for another day. Or stay, and risk Damon losing his shit and potentially causing a scene when he finds out I’ve weaseled my way into his life.

I chew my lip and debate my options. In the grand scheme of things, I came to AAU with one goal in mind, and it wasn’t to make friends. It was to win Damon back, to earn his trust again, and make him understand why I broke his heart in the first place.

His coach’s words echo through my head.Sometimes life gives you a second chance. You just have to be brave enough to take it.

But the truth is, not all second chances are handed to you—sometimes, you have to fight for them, carve them out of the wreckage you created, and prove you’re worthy of the forgiveness you were never promised.

So, that’s exactly what I’ll do.

Chapter 13

DAMON

Ihate how hyperaware of her I am, how my body seems to be tuned into her like a radio stuck on a single frequency. How her laugh echoes in my head long after I hear it. How I track her every move like an animal stalking its prey. I note her escape to the bathroom and the panicked look in her eye with more than a little resentment. Avery has always stood out to me, and it seems time has changed nothing. It’s a rather inconvenient fact I’d love nothing more than to erase with the dregs from Brandon’s flask.

Our backs are turned on the dance floor as I shake free the last drops of the whiskey into my punch, only to be reminded of the color of Avery’s eyes. “Is this all you’ve got?” I ask accusingly before I tip my cup back and drain its contents.

“Man, this flask is eight ounces, and you’ve had more than half,” Brandon complains, as he screws the lid back on and tucks it into his suit coat.

“Is everything alright here?”

Brynn’s voice startles us, and we all turn around quickly as if we’re up to no good. “Of course, everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be?” I reply, squinting as if she’s the one under suspicion.

She purses her lips, her gaze flickering between us. “You’re acting weird.”

“So is your boyfriend.” I motion toward Jace who’s dancing alongside Chris with the high schoolers, twirling one of them around the dance floor like he’s a contestant onDancing with the Stars.

Brynn follows my gaze, then rolls her eyes, before turning back to us, arms crossed over her chest. “Just . . . behave, okay?”

“What do you think we’re going to do? Spike the punch?” Brandon asks, his eyes wide and innocent.

I press my lips together, fighting a laugh as Brynn purses her lips, then mutters, “I’m watching you,” before she turns on her heel and heads back to Jace.

I exhale, and Brandon wipes the back of his hand over his sweaty brow. “Shit. That was close. I thought for sure she was going to sniff out the booze on our breath like a bloodhound.”

The words have barely left his mouth when I catch movement in my peripheral and turn to see Avery step into the entryway, her eyes sweeping the room before locking onto mine—and then she’s walking straight toward our table.

“Oh shit,” Brandon mutters under his breath. “Incoming.”

“What do we do?” West asks, wide-eyed as he turns toward Brandon.

“Maybe we should give him a moment alone . . .” Brandon trails off, nodding in the direction of my ex.