Page 29

BLOCKED

XANDER

One year ago

August

“Wow.”

At the sharp whistle that follows that single word, I turn, holding my T-shirt in my hand. Miller stands a few feet away from me, his eyes glued to his phone. The smile on his lips creeps me out, especially when he looks up, and our gazes lock.

He slumps onto the bench beside me. “Huh,” he says, feigning a casual demeanor. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize her before.” Miller shoves his phone in my face. “That’s your ex from college, right?”

Involuntarily, I snap my gaze to the screen.

My blood runs cold when the image registers.

It’s a photo of Stacey and me on my front porch.

She’s clearly wearing my hoodie, its sleeves rolled up and the hem falling past her butt.

The headline of the article blurs into a mess, and I have to blink several times to read it right.

New couple alert?

This can’t be fucking happening.

“‘Alexander Walker, star quarterback of the Boston City Warriors, was seen ushering an attractive blonde from his house late Monday night. His guest appears to be the woman he’s been photographed with a handful of times over the last few months,’” Jake reads, his voice booming so everyone in the locker room can hear him.

“‘A source close to the player confirms he and his girlfriend, Isabella Lawson, have called it quits. We can’t, however, say whether this beautiful blonde had anything to do with the breakup. It doesn’t seem like this Warrior was heartbroken for long.

Is it a new couple alert? We’ve yet to find out, but we’ll update when we learn more. ’”

When Miller looks up, the room is eerily silent.

I keep my head bowed, avoiding eye contact with my teammates. My hands tremble, making my shirt tremble too.

I clutch it to my chest and close my eyes. Dammit. All I can think about is Bella, how she’ll feel if she sees this article.

“Fuck, Walker! Color me surprised.” Miller laughs, punching my shoulder. “So many big words about how much you love Isabella, only to dump her the second your nerdy ex returns. I didn’t expect that…though maybe I should’ve. Glad to see you off that high horse. Told you you’re no better than me.”

I stand and yank on my shirt, ignoring him. The only thing I want to do is talk to Bella and make it clear there’s nothing going on between me and Stacey.

“Where is Isabella?” Jake asks as I pick up my duffel bag. “Figured I’d see if she wants to get dinner now that you’re done with her.”

I clench my jaw and count to ten. I promised I wouldn’t get physical, but damn if he’s not grating on my last nerve.

“Xander.” Drew stops in front of me. He’s fully dressed, just like I am. “Let’s go.”

With a nod, I stride toward the door. Drew stays close behind me, and once we step into the hallway, Marco joins us.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to keep hanging out with her.” Drew’s shoulder brushes mine as we head to the parking lot.

“I did, and I haven’t been.” I rough a hand down my face. “She showed up at my house. I told her I can’t be friends with her anymore, and she accepted it.”

“Why is she in your hoodie then?” Drew side-eyes me. “I’ve seen you wear that one more than once.”

“She spilled tea on her T-shirt. I gave her my hoodie. That’s all.”

Marco shakes his head. “No one’s gonna believe that.”

“That’s why I’m calling my rep as soon as I’m in the car. We’ll issue a statement. I don’t want Bella to think I’m with Stacey.”

My words are met with silence. I eye Drew, then Marco, and realize they’re having a silent exchange.

“What?” I ask.

“Do you really think she’ll care about a statement?” Drew hefts his bag higher on his shoulder, eyeing me intently.

“I’ll call her?—”

“You said yourself she won’t answer your calls,” Marco chimes in.

“I’ll send her a text.”

“You sure she’ll read it?” Drew arches an eyebrow.

I stop in my tracks and hide my face in my hands. For several seconds, all I do is breathe. “I don’t know,” I finally say, “but I need to do something. I can’t let her think I’m with Stacey, not after everything…”

Drew says. “I know, just… I’m not sure she’s going to listen. Those pictures speak louder than any explanation you could give her.”

I grit my teeth, biting back a curse. “If I don’t do something, I’ll regret it for my entire life.”

With that, I storm to my car. First things first—I’ve got to call my rep.

I stand at the breakfast bar and stare at my phone, silently willing Bella to read the statement my rep put out, willing her to believe me.

Milo huffs at my feet. I brought him home, but I’m already second-guessing the decision. He got far more attention from my parents, I’m sure.

“I’m going to call her, bud,” I tell him. “Cross your fingers for me.”

Holding my breath, I pick up the phone and navigate to Bella’s contact information. The line rings and rings and rings, but she doesn’t pick up. It’s what I figured, but it still stings. I want to hear her voice so desperately. Every day, the distance between us breaks my heart a little more.

When her voicemail picks up, I end the call and pull up my messages app.

Me:

Hey. I’m the last person you want to hear from, but I need to tell you this. You probably saw the pictures, and I really hope you’ve read my statement. Either way, I’m not with Stacey. She came over to talk, that was all. I told her I can’t be friends with her. I told her how much I love you

Me:

And I do. I love you, and I miss you so fucking much, it kills me. Please, I need to hear your voice

I wait and wait, but no reply comes. An hour later, the restless energy building inside me wins out.

I stand and pace the living room. I need to do more.

Anything. I fish my phone out of my pocket, open Instagram, and type out a new message.

My texts still show as delivered. Maybe I can get her attention this way.

I hit send then navigate to her profile, desperate to check up on her.

I just need to see her face. Instead, all I find is a blank space in place of her feed.

No number of followers is displayed, and a message that reads “Something went wrong” pops up on my screen.

My mouth falls open, and I stumble back.

She blocked me.

With trembling hands, I close Instagram and dial Marco. If I call Meg directly, she won’t answer. Her boyfriend is my only hope.

“Hey. What’s up?” Marco’s voice in my ear grounds me a little.

I blink. “Hey…um, is Meg with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Can—” I clear my throat. “Can I talk to her?”

“Let me check.” The line is muffled for a second, and then he says, “Babe, it’s Xander. He wants to talk to you.”

“And why would I talk to him?” Meg says, her tone sharp.

“Babe, please, do it for me.”

“Fine,” she says, her voice coming closer. A heartbeat later, she lets out a harsh breath, and the line between us crackles. “What do you want?”

“I can’t reach Bella.” I rub at my sternum, desperate to ease the pain in my chest. “I think she blocked me.”

“And?” Her answer is the only confirmation I need.

Fuck .

My heart thuds heavily. “I need to talk to her. Meg, please.”

“No. She blocked you for a reason, Walker. Leave her alone.”

“But I need to tell her what happened. I made a statement?—”

“We saw your statement,” she snaps. “She still doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“Meg…”

She sighs. “Sorry, Xander.” Her voice is softer now. “But I won’t tell you how to find her. Please, leave her alone.”

With that, she hangs up, and I’m left with suffocating silence in my ear.

Eight months ago

December

I sit on the couch in the VIP area, nursing a glass of top-shelf whiskey. Meg is by my side, scrolling through pictures on her phone while waiting for Marco to bring her a drink.

We’re here celebrating Omar Williams’s birthday. I tried to get out of it, but Drew and Marco talked me into coming, reminding me I’ve been a shit teammate by not showing up to any parties.

I regret being here already.

All I do is drink and brood.

And keep my distance from Miller. He has been an insufferable pain in the ass for weeks. Ignoring him is definitely easier now that I’ve learned how to dissociate. Even so, on occasion, he works his way under my skin, and drinking only increases the likelihood I’ll snap.

“Walker, my man.”

Speak of the devil.

Jake slumps onto the couch between Meg and me and drapes his arm over my shoulder. With a groan, I scoot away, shooting him a glare.

“Leave me alone, Miller. I’m not looking for trouble.”

“I’m not looking for trouble either. It’s Omar’s birthday, and I have no desire to spoil the fun for my teammate.” Miller crooks a smile at me before he turns to Meg. “How are you, Meghan? Where?—”

He snatches her phone from her hand and brings it closer to his face, his eyes narrowed. The way his smile dies makes my stomach quiver.

“What the fuck?” Meg makes a swipe for her phone, but he doesn’t let go.

Instead, he shoves it in my face. “Did you know about this?”

Before I know what’s happening, Bella is in front of me. For a moment, everything in me goes still. Then my chest constricts so painfully, I worry I might keel over.

She’s so fucking beautiful…and so happy. Her lips are stretched into a radiant smile, and her hair is pulled up into a messy bun. Her denim shirt makes her blue eyes pop.

God, I miss her so much.

“Walker, stop staring at Isabella. Look to her right.”

Only then do I notice the guy with his arm casually thrown over her shoulder. His white T-shirt is crisp against his dark skin, and his brown eyes are warm. The smile on his face is as wide as Bella’s. With his beard, he reminds me of Steph Curry.

Miller studies me. “Based on the look on your face, you didn’t know. I figured you’d at least be checking in on her now and then. No?”

I don’t tell him that I can’t because she blocked me on every social media site in existence. It’s none of his business.

“We broke up.” I hate those words. “I didn’t want to invade her privacy.”

“That’s bullshit,” he bites out. “If she hadn’t blocked me, I’d be checking on her all the time.”

My stomach sinks. Once again, Miller and I can be lumped together in the same category. Both Bella’s exes. Both blocked on social media.

Meg manages to snatch her phone back from Miller and stands, glowering down at him. “Do you even hear yourself? Izzy is doing great. Leave her the fuck alone.”

“Who is that guy?” he asks, pointing at her device.

“None of your business.” She gives me a quick glance, and then she’s gone.

Miller turns to me. “Must be her new boyfriend. I only got a quick look at her feed, but he’s in every picture.”

My gut rolls. Why hasn’t anyone told me? Surely Meg and Marco would’ve given me a heads-up. I stand, desperate for air, but before I have a chance to walk away, Miller speaks again.

“It’s weird,” he says. “I’m not even angry that she’s with this guy. She’s not with you, and that’s all that matters.” He smirks, draping his arms along the back of the couch.

“Yeah, and she’s not with you either,” I rasp as I head to the exit.

I went out for air and kept going. Now, hours later, I’m staring at the ceiling in my bedroom. Sleep refuses to take me—probably because my mind is occupied with thoughts about Bella.

She broke up with me, left and never looked back. She blocked me everywhere, didn’t give me a chance to explain myself. She already has a new guy, and fuck, she looks so much happier without me.

I should want that for her, but I’m too heartbroken to be anywhere close to ready for that. And I’m also so fucking angry.

Still…I miss her.

With a groan, I reach for my phone. I tap the Instagram icon, log out of my account, and create a new one using a secondary email.

A few minutes later, my new profile is live.

My profile picture is a stock image of a corgi.

As much as I wanted to use a photo of Milo, I wouldn’t be surprised if she recognized him. My handle is @I_love_my_Corgi222.

I request to follow her, then put my phone down and close my eyes, praying to anyone who will listen she accepts my request.

I just need to see her. That’s it.