Page 9 of Friends with Benefits

The first real threads of fear wove through my chest on the drive back to my apartment.

What if they’d left for good?

Chapter Four

Tripp

This wasmy last chance and I was going to kick ass.

Or at least that’s what I told myself after eight hours of practice and classes.

Muscles sore and protesting, I heaved myself from my car in the parking lot of my apartment complex. With the heavy weight of my gym bag thrown over my shoulder, the trek from my car to the elevator felt like an eternity. All I wanted was a big bottle of ice-cold water, a hot shower, and about a century of sleep.

I aimed to do just that—and I would have if I hadn’t heard the quiet sobs coming from behind the apartment door next to mine. It was so out of place that I froze with my key raised to my door. The last time I could remember hearing Ember like this was the day we met when she had the twins. Of course, the twins cried from time to time, but theirs was more of a high-pitched wail than the soft, heart-wrenching cries I heard now.

It had to be Ember.

The thought didn’t quite compute. She was a rock. She put up with more than I thought physically possible. I thought I had it hard with my constant practices, workouts, and training, but that was nothing compared to working, going to school, and taking care of two kids with deadbeat parents.

She was like Superwoman.

I knocked on her door after a pause. Maybe she wouldn’t want me butting my nose in. She probably wanted to be alone. I would check on her to make sure she was okay, and then I’d bounce if she wanted me to go.

I immediately knew when she opened the door that she wasn’t okay.

Not in the slightest.

I had to hold myself back to keep from pulling her into my arms.

It wasn’t the red rims around her eyes or the smeared mascara that gave it away—at least not for me. I’d known Ember long enough to get used to her moods. She was either balls-to-the-wall full of energy or she was sleeping. I spent half the time we hung out just trying to keep up with her—and I was supposed to be a star athlete for fuck’s sake. It was how wrung-out she looked that clued me in. Like she simply didn’t have anything left to give.

After dropping my bag inside her front door, I closed it behind me. She had her arms wrapped around her waist, and, as much as I wanted to pull her close and comfort her, I knew it wasn’t the right time. So, I shoved my hands into my pockets instead. “What's wrong? Is it your parents?”

She shook her head but wouldn’t meet my eyes as we sat on her worn couch. I tipped her chin up with a finger. “Em, tell me what’s wrong, angel.”

As long as I’d known her, Ember had been a rock. Immovable. Unbreakable. I’d never seen her crack.

Until now.

And it made me want to do whatever I could to make her feel better.

Tears shimmered in her eyes, and then she cleared her throat, her shoulders lifting as she sucked in a deep breath. “It’s everything. My parents, pulling more shit. I had to take off from work when I really needed the hours. Chris broke up with me. He’s seeing someone else.”

“Broke up?” It didn’t quite penetrate. He had Ember. Why would he need anyone else? “You’re kidding. What happened with your parents?”

I didn’t want to touch the conversation about her boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—with a ten-foot pole. Didn’t want to open that can of worms. It had taken a long time to get over her—or at least get to a place where I wasn’t thinking about her constantly.

Thankfully, she kept me from making a complete jackass out of myself. She was clearly hurting. Now was not the time to make any sort of move on her. No matter how much I wanted to.

“God, Tripp, I don’t mean to blubber all over you like this. I’m sorry. You look exhausted. You should go get some sleep.”

She made to move away, but I hooked her arm. “No, c’mon. Tell me what’s going on. I’ve got time.”Time for youechoed in my head, unsaid.

Ember wiped at her nose. I was a piece of scum for noticing how beautiful her eyes were, even when she was crying. “Are you sure?”

It was the hopeful upturn in her voice that had me nudging her shoulder with my own. “I wouldn’t say so if I wasn’t.”

She sighed heavily, and I was struck, as I always was, by how quiet the apartment was without her mother’s soap operas blaring or her father shouting demands from his place on the couch. The twins were mute in comparison to their parents.