Page 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

KENDRA

“ T hat’s him, isn’t it?” Jenna peers over my shoulder.

With a towel wrapped around me and my freshly showered hair dripping down my back, I flatten my phone to my chest. “Yes.”

“Knew it,” she sings, coming to stand beside me after our two to one win at home.

Somehow, I clinched the game with a winning strike on the full volley. Never in my life have I mastered that shot, but as the ball floated through the air on a corner, I thought, Why not start here?

Although my left knee is not thanking me for it right now.

As Jenna rummages through her change bag, I take the opportunity to read Jack’s WhatsApp message.

Jack

Nice volley, Hart. That Pilates is paying off.

When I showed up for practice the morning Jack left for Colorado and Jenna immediately asked me how the hotel was, I broke the news to her .

Unsurprisingly, her reaction was similar to my brother’s, but with added squealing and, “I told you so,” thrown in.

She will no longer accept any other argument than he likes me, but I won’t even entertain the idea.

“So, what did he say?”

On an eye roll, I accept that resistance is futile, and I show her my screen.

“Okay, so I take two things from this.” She ponders, still staring at my phone as if the one line he wrote were more like a Shakespearean sonnet I studied in college.

“One, he’s thinking about you, and two, he’s already watched the highlights of our game.”

“One,” I counter, “he’s my roommate and the main occupier of the apartment he just entrusted me with, and two, he likes soccer.” I keep my face straight and fight back the smile tugging at my lips when I think about his hatred of that word.

“You know I’m really enjoying this, right?” Jenna’s face tells me she absolutely is.

“Well, maybe you are, but you’re going to be left disappointed. He’s a nice guy, and I guess I enjoy his company, but I’m also not about to jump into anything.”

“Oh, so you’ve thought about it then?”

“No!” I announce louder than I wanted. “All I’m thinking about is getting my ex-boyfriend off my back and my ass into an apartment of my own. If I make a friend along the way, then great.”

Jenna zips her bag shut with force and looks at me, the freckles along the bridge of her nose prominent with mischief. “Not convinced.”

“I have zero intention of convincing you with my words. I’ll let my actions do the talking,” I reply as I pull on some shorts and wince at the soreness in my knee.

“You need to get back in front of the physio, babe.” Jenna’s voice switches from playful to serious in an instant.

From my seat at the bench, I can see the slight swelling around my patella. “I think all I need is my brace to help it for a while.”

She props her hands on her hips. “And you think showing up to practice on Saturday morning, wearing a brace, won’t result in questions from the trainer.”

Jenna flops down next to me as I huff out a breath.

The past three weeks have not been the best for me.

“I know Team USA scouts could show up at any game or practice, and I know they have me on their radar. Since Laney retired last season, we’ve been short on center backs, and I feel like this is my shot. I don’t want to wait another four years, Jenna.”

She wraps an arm around my shoulders and brings me into her as the rest of the girls start to file out of the locker room.

“You okay, Kend?” Hollie stops on her way out the door.

I throw up a hand and smile. “All good, babe. Be out in a second.”

With a little squeeze, Jenna pulls me around to face her. “Listen to me, Hart. When I say there isn’t another defender I’d want in front of me in club or international games, then I’m not lying. You are more than on their radar; you are absolutely at the top of their list. But if you start fucking around and hiding injuries, then not only will they find out and be pissed at you, they’ll also be concerned that you weren’t up front.”

As I stand from the bench and pull my phone back out of my bag, I know she’s right.

Jenna’s playful exterior returns as she swings her bag onto her shoulder. “Now message lover boy back and come join us outside.”

I don’t bother to argue with her as she pulls open the door, and it slams behind her, leaving me alone in the locker room.

Me

Thanks. You should give it a try sometime. One last game tonight, right?

Jack

Yeah, we need the W. How’s the apartment doing? Ceiling’s still in place, I assume?

Who knew the guy I barely spoke to in college was actually this funny?

When the app shows that Jack has gone offline, a wave of panic flashes through me. Was that flirty?

Damn you, Jenna, for messing with my head.

I’m hurriedly typing out a clarification that I’m grateful for his help when Jack starts typing again.

Jack

Put the flag out. Kendra Hart noticed me.

I stand in silence, staring at the message and trying to work out exactly what he meant by that. Similar to what Jenna did a few minutes ago.

Me

I did notice things about you in college.

All right, let’s test that …

I’m poised with my phone gripped tightly in my hand as he types again.

Without cheating, when is my birthday?

My brow furrows as I rack my brain for an answer that has to be buried somewhere. The temptation to bring up Google and search him has me closing out the message thread and opening up a new window. But as I type in his name, I feel like I owe him my honesty.

I want to say April.

Nope.

Well, are you going to tell me?

Nope.

A single laugh bubbles from my chest.

Okay, try me with another.

All right, last chance, Hart.

Butterflies swirl in my stomach. Why the fuck do I find something I played back in junior school so damn exciting? This is the sum of what my life has become.

Jack

What was my last name before I changed it?

I roll my eyes and type out a response.

Me

Give me a little credit. Thompson, obviously.

Good girl.

One more since that was so damn easy.

Last one, and then I have to go to skate.

Hit me with it. Give me your best.

I take a seat on the bench and hold my breath while I watch him type.

Jack

Why did we wait so long to start speaking?

My thumbs hover over my keyboard as the few very faint memories I have of Jack in college play like a carousel in my mind. Most of them are of him on the ice or the look he would throw Tyler or his friends from across the room.

As the slideshow continues, it finally stops on one moment I was aware of at the time, but never thought—or allowed myself to think—much more about it.

I was playing in a game when my knee gave out. I was in my third year, and it was the second time in my college career it had happened. The trainer wrapped it, and when the final whistle went, everyone headed back to the clubhouse.

I stayed sitting on the bench for a while longer, staring out at the pitch and trying to figure out how long I’d be out this time.

In that moment, I felt pretty desperate. It was a game Tyler had promised me he’d come to since he wasn’t busy with hockey, but he hadn’t shown.

The one person who had? Jack.

My attention was drawn to a guy on the other side of the pitch, wearing a college baseball cap and jacket. I knew it was Jack, but I assumed he was here for someone else.

So, why was he still there when everyone else had gone inside?

I wanted to head over and ask him what he was doing here, but the second I rose from the bench, Tyler’s voice filtered from behind me.

And when I turned back around to check on Jack, he’d left.

Me

Honestly, I don’t know. But maybe a faulty ceiling isn’t all that bad after all.