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"Oops, sorry, I haven't got wallowing scheduled today."

"Grant, don't make me." She looks at me with her trademark puppy eyes, and I could crumble for her every time.

"Why don't we see what is left and if any of it is fixable?" I try my best not just to keep her happy, but also to let her sit on the floor all night with me.

She leans back and looks at me, and I wipe a tear away from her cheek, and it's like that small, intimate moment makes her remember where we are and what happened to us before she scrambles up and off my lap quickly. I follow and stand, stretching my legs as I survey the damage with the girls.

Brooke grabs a hanger, using it to pull a t-shirt out of the dryer. "I don't think these are torn," she says, pulling out more shirts. "I might be able to rinse them and see what the colour turns out like?" She turns to Cami like she's unsure.

"That's my girl, okay? We need garbage bags and gloves." Cami smiles, clapping her hands, turning to the doorway, shouting, "ANDREW."

I feel sorry for the poor guy as he comes skidding around the corner, and she asks for the supplies. I look at Brooke, who's sifting through the torn stuff, and she looks up at me.

"Thanks for the hug," she whispers, looking away like she can't stand to look me in the eye.

"Anytime," I say, rubbing the back of my neck, and she gives me a tight smile. I've fucked this up. "I need to go help the team and talk to Coach."

"Of course," she says, standing and smoothing down the front of her dress. "I've got Cami to help me. Don't worry."

"Okay." I tear my eyes away from her and head to the ice with the rest of the team to salvage our rink.

Chapter Forty Nine

Brooke

We left the rink at about four in the morning, with five trash bags full of wet and torn-up clothes. We all trudge up the apartment stairs silently and head into our respective apartments with little more than a wave. Cami and I chuck the bags into the living room, and she heads to her bedroom, mumbling about sleep deprivation. Looking at the bags, I know I don't have the luxury of time and start ripping into them, filling the sink to rinse them and figure out what I'm left with. I quickly change into shorts and one of Grant's hoodies and get to work. I'm about half a bag in when I see someone move out of the corner of my eye, making me jump, and I yank my AirPods out of my ears.

Standing in the middle of the living room is Grant, holding up two iced coffees and what looks like a greasy bag of heaven. We just stare at each other for a minute, and I bite my lip nervously.

"I knew you wouldn't go to sleep." He shrugs and steps forward, passing me a coffee.

"Cami's still asleep." I nod to the other coffee in his hand while fiddling with the straw of mine.

"Um, actually, this one's for me." He looks sheepish. "Figured it would be quicker if I helped."

We can blame the lack of sleep or the past two weeks, but I immediately burst into tears, and he rushed forward, pulling me into a hug.

"I'm sorry, I'm just exhausted, and this night was really weird." I sniffle into him, gripping the back of his shirt, having missed being close to him.

"It's okay, I've been a dick, and I should have been here for you," he rushes out, stroking his fingers through my hair, soothing me.

"I told you to go leave me alone," I sob out, tears staining the front of his grey hoodie.

"Before tonight, Brooke. I should have listened to you on New Year's." He pulls back and brushes my hair out of my face, stroking my cheek with his thumb "You were struggling with The Drop, and Cami was ignoring you, and then I ended it because I thought you were ashamed of me and people knowing we were together."

"I wasn't ashamed of you, I just needed time to make sure Cami was okay with it, but I should have spoken to you about that before." Rubbing my nose with the sleeve of his hoodie, looking up at him. "I felt lonely; I had all of you and then none of you."

"Shit, I'm so sorry Brooke." He brushes my cheek again, and I lean into his touch, instantly clicking back into how we were, and I see him lean in, but I know I'm not ready yet.

"Can we get through today, and then maybe we can talk it through?" I smooth my hands down his shirt against his chest, not pushing him away but creating some space between us before I make a mistake and let him straight back in before we talk this through.

"I would like that." He slips his hand from my cheek down to my hips, and I can feel myself getting lost in him again. I take a step back, nodding before I grab my coffee, taking a long sip, and sighing as the caffeine feels like it's kicking in.

"So, what are we looking at?" he asks, moving toward the dyed stuff I had already rinsed.

"I think it's going to come out a purplish colour." I sigh, brushing the back of my hand over my forehead, but it's splotchy on some items.

"Okay, so let's get them washed and dried?" he asks, holding one of them up. "But we are going to have to do this with machines. It's going to take too long by hand."