Page 28

I stare at my reflection once more, taking in the sight of me. The lights in the bathroom make me look paler than I really am. I keep looking, expecting to wake up from this crazy dream at any minute .

This… this is everything I’ve ever wanted.

So why do I feel strangely empty inside?

Maybe because I need a fucking sandwich or a coffee or something. I’ve barely eaten all day and the flight was too short for them to pass out snacks.

Yeah, that’s probably it.

I take one last look, nodding and accepting that this is as good as I’m going to get. Once I get settled into my hotel room for the night, once I sign my contract, I’ll grab something to eat. I’m not sure eating when I feel this nervous is a good idea.

I find the silver Jetta and waste no time opening the door and letting myself in.

“You must be Alex,” he says, and I take a minute to look at him directly in the eyes.

My dad always said no matter how nervous you were, if you looked a guy in the eyes, you’d show him the opposite.

That you weren’t some weak, frightened pussy.

You were confident. And depending on how they met your steadfast gaze—with a handshake or if they looked away—you’d know if you were an equal or a threat.

So I stare at Vance Harding with borrowed confidence, and it knocks the damn wind out of me.

His brownish blonde hair is windblown and his expression is nearly unreadable. I can’t tell what he thinks of me, if he thinks anything at all, but I think he’s hot as hell. His photos don’t do him justice .

I hold my hand out to shake his, holding his gaze.

“And you must be Vance. Captain, right?”

He chews his lip, his gaze flashing to my hand before he takes it, meeting my gaze once more. His grip is hard, rough. My dad would say it’s a good handshake, but it feels like a threat.

I don’t want to piss this guy off.

“That’s right.” He squeezes my hand tight before dropping it.

I relax as he pulls out of his space and my heart drops. I watch the world pass by out the window. Thankfully, I’m not headed to Reading directly. Caroline said we’ll be meeting at a hotel conference room to go over everything.

I keep waiting for the relief, the excitement to hit again.

But it doesn’t. In fact, I feel numb.

Before I know it, I’m sitting with a bunch of people in suits and looking over paperwork.

I do my best to smile and act excited because I don’t want these people to think I’m ungrateful or something. I am happy, I just…

Don’t do that. Don’t pretend to be happy, Alex. Mack’s words settle in my brain.

I look over the contract for the fifth time. It’s not the greatest deal in the world—I’m only going to be making about forty-five grand to start, which isn’t much in the grand scheme of things. Austen’s going to be making at least ninety just attaching files for dad at the firm.

But this isn’t about the money. It’s never been about the money, it’s about the opportunity.

The chance to prove that I’m good at something. The chance to live out my dream of being a professional athlete.

Well, semi-professional, technically.

It’s about proving to myself that I can do this. That I’m not the failure everyone thinks I am.

I push Mack’s words away as I stare at the space awaiting my final signature. I look up at the room full of people. I don’t know anyone, not really. I realize that as I sit here in this room in some random town in fucking Pennsylvania, that I am surrounded by people, but I feel strangely alone.

I’m sure that’s the nerves. It’s normal to be nervous over something like this.

My gaze finds Vance’s in the corner. Captains don’t typically sit in on contract signings, but these people must think pretty highly of him to let him stay.

Which means he must have some pretty good standing, and he’s a man I need to impress.

He stands there, hands behind his back, staring back at me with a challenging look. It reminds me of someone else .

He nods the slightest, as if he’s giving me permission to do the very thing I came here to do.

It’s strange, but the sight settles something in me.

I don’t know the guy yet, but he is my captain. I’m sure I’ll get to know him well enough over time, right?

I hold my breath as I sign my name, and when they take the papers from me, shaking my hand, only then do I breathe.

When the conference room clears out, Vance and I are the only two people left.

“Welcome to the team, Alex.” He holds his hand out. I take it and shake it firmly. He pulls me in for a tight hug that feels harsher than it should.

“They put you up here?” he asks, sliding his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah. I’m on the fifth floor,” I say quietly. I haven’t felt much like myself today, despite everything that’s happened. Maybe I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“You got any plans tonight? To celebrate?” Vance asks.

“I could have plans,” I say with a shrug.

Vance grins. “Good answer.”

“I just, uh… need to make a call first,” I say.

“Fine. I’ll be in the car.” He takes two steps before turning to face me, his dark grey eyes sending a shiver down my spine. “And, Brewer?”“Yeah, Cap? ”

“I don’t fucking wait for anyone, so hurry your ass up.”

Something about the way he says the words are harsh, bitter. Commanding. I blink, looking back and forth before finding my voice.

“‘Kay. I’ll be right there.”

My fingers hover over Mack’s number. It’s well after nine. He should be awake and available, right?

I hit the call button and it rings, then goes straight to voicemail. Weird.

I try again. Same thing.

And again.

Maybe he’s busy and can’t answer. Maybe his phone is dead.

Or maybe he blocked you because you know… regret.

Though I don’t think Mack would block me just because of what we did. He didn’t after Vegas, why would now be any different?

Still, there’s a strange feeling in my chest and that bitter voice tells me it’s what he did.

That he wants nothing to do with me.

I swipe past his name, pursing my lips. I call Britt instead.

“Where’d you go? Timbuktu?” she answers with a giggle.

“Worse. Pennsylvania,” I say, feigning my own laugh. Today’s been a weird day. I’m sure it’s just the shock. What else could it be?

“I can’t talk long. Going to meet the guys on the team with my captain.”

“Glad you got in okay. Have fun!” she says.

“Thanks,” I say. “I gotta go or this guy’s going to kick my ass. He doesn’t like to be late.”

“Talk to you soon?” she asks, and I hear the faintest hope in her voice.

“Yeah, of course,” I say before I hang up, making my way out the door.

As Vance and I drive off, I watch the moon shine through the trees, a sinking feeling in my stomach that my life is about to change, and nothing will ever be the same.

But that’s what I wanted, isn’t it?

The lights of the strip club bathe me and my teammates in neon, and I stare at my phone, at his number. I’ve had a lot to drink and the screen is blurry. But that’s what you do when you celebrate, right?

“You’ve been staring at that phone all night,” Vance says, his voice gruff, edged with a rasp only prevalent from drinking too damn much .

“Just trying to get ahold of someone back home,” I say, swallowing hard.

Vance takes the phone from my hand, and I watch him delete Mack’s name straight from my phone. I don’t do anything to stop him because I can’t. One, I’m too stunned by his bold action and two, I’m drunk. I can barely keep myself upright, let alone fight for my phone.

He hands it back to me, his large frame boxing me in.

“Problem solved,” he says, his voice dark. I look up at him, realizing his size. He’s not that much bigger than me, but that dark gaze, and the way he carries himself… fuck.

He’s no Mack Truck, and I have the faintest thought of who would win in a brawl. Harding or Mackenzie?

“Now stop fucking moping around and let’s have some fun,” he says as he throws his arm around me and pulls me back to the VIP with the rest of my new teammates. He holds up a glass of whiskey as the other guys hold their beers and drinks up.

“To our newest Rioter,” Vance announces and the guys all cheer.

The world blurs around me as Vance keeps shoving drinks and shots at me, and I down every one like it’s my fucking job. I have the deepest desire to impress these guys because I know that’s what this little exercise really is .

They want to know what kind of man I am. If I can hang or if I’m going to pussy out.

I refuse to let them think any less of me, especially since this is my first impression. I need to make sure they know I am on their level. Especially Vance.

Everything spins until it stops and the next thing I know I’m bent over a toilet throwing up, with someone’s fist in my hair.

“Good boy, Alex,” Vance says, his voice dark and full of humor. “Let it out.”

My head spins, those three little words wedging themselves into me. Good boy, Alex.

I groan as my head hits the toilet seat and heat ransacks my body as he laughs. I feel like I could crawl into a hole and die.

I’m never drinking this much again. Fuck me.

When I finally stop throwing up, exhaustion hits and I curl around the toilet, worried I’ll start dry heaving.

“Where’s my phone?” I murmur. Seconds later, a hand offers me my phone. His thick gold ring glistens in the light. I look up to see Vance standing above me, and I realize this bathroom isn’t my hotel bathroom. It’s too nice. No, this… this is someone’s house.

Vance’s house? Maybe? How the fuck did I get here?

Vance stares at me from above as I take the phone from him, cycling through my contacts, but I don’t see Mack’s name. I can’t remember his number off the top of my head. I can’t—

“Get some rest, rookie,” Vance says as he walks out of the bathroom, leaving me curled around the toilet, the cold tile against my heated flesh a welcome contrast.

I clutch my phone to my chest, trying to remember the numbers I so desperately want to call, but it’s no use.

My fingers hit the screen, and when I look down, I see my photos staring back at me.

One in particular pulls my attention. I hit it with my thumb, focusing my gaze on the selfie from the bus. With Mack.

The last thing I remember is my phone slipping to the floor and my heart breaking because I’ve never felt so alone.