Page 106 of Daring the Hockey Player

As soon as I head outside, I grimace that I hadn't tried to reconcile with Kyler. I'm still pissed, but if Amber is with Emerson, then at least I'd know she's safe.

I don't like the thought of her riding the subway alone or walking in the dark back to the apartment.

I try Amber on her phone, but after the first ring, it goes to voicemail. Her phone is on. She's declining my call. I hurry to the subway. It's unlikely that she's going to take a cab home; there's a chance that I might run into her.

I shoot her a text message.I need to talk to you.

No response.

Maybe that's good. She's at least not telling me to fuck off.

Or she could have outright blocked my number.

How much did she hear? Kyler and I weren't exactly quiet, and I don't know when she bailed. Either way, my stomach is in knots while I hurry home.

The train is crowded, quite a few fans recognize me, and some snap photos and video record me for their social media accounts. It's probably good that Amber isn't down here in the subway station, or I'd be getting my ass chewed on camera, and it would become the next viral video.

I don't need that kind of attention.

I glance at my phone, still no answer. At least I can see that she read the text. She didn't block my number yet. I type another message and hit send.

Please tell me you're not with Atlas.

This time, she's typing. I can see the three blinking dots, and I momentarily hold my breath while the train pulls up at the station. I hurry on but don't bother to grab a seat. It's crowded, and there are far more people in need of someplace to sit. I grab the rail overhead, holding it while I wait for her to answer.

She takes a while, but finally, the message comes through, and I feel like I've just been stabbed.

Maybe I should be with him. No one is paying him to be with me.

I wince at her words on the screen. She has every reason to hate me.

It's not what you think.

I text her back and wait for her to answer. Maybe I should get my ass off the train and grab a cab. At least then I could get to her sooner, wherever she is.

The subway doors have already closed, though, and the train jolts forward.

She doesn't answer me. She types. She erases. The three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again. And then they're gone.

I'm not sure what's worse, fighting with her or the silence waiting for her to answer. The fact that she's not willing to fight for us.

Ten minutes later, she finally answers me. I almost wish that she hadn't.

It doesn't matter, Jasper. We're done. It's over. I'm moving out. I'll leave the key in the apartment.

Texting isn't going to fix this. Seeing her is the only way to not make a further mess from this disaster. But she's probably at the house, and I'm still stuck on the subway train. I ring her again, this time surprised when she answers.

"I'll mail you my last rent check as soon as I get paid."

"Dammit, Amber!" I wince when I realize several people are watching me. Is it because they know who I am or my tone that drew their attention? "I love you. Can you let me explain, please?"

"There's nothing to explain," she says. She sniffles, and I can tell by her voice that she's been crying, which just makes my stomach sink even lower.

"I never took the money."

"What?"

"The money my brother offered for you to stay with me to help cover your rent. I never took it."