Page 20 of Red Zone (PCU Storm #2)

LYLA

M y breathing’s steadier now. The weight pressing on my chest has eased enough to let me remember where I am and why I started spiraling to begin with.

Carter’s arms are still wrapped around me, one hand tracing lazy, calming shapes on the back of my wrist. His body is solid behind me, warm and grounding.

We’re curled up on the floor like some kind of messed-up teenage drama scene, except…

this is the third time he’s seen me lose it, and he’s still standing here. Well, sitting.

Just when the silence starts to stretch too long, he clears his throat.

“If you wanted to feel me up, Red, all you had to do was ask.”

I choke on a laugh. “Oh my God,” I whisper, elbowing him weakly in the ribs.

He grunts dramatically. “See? There it is. The spark’s back.”

“You’re such an ass.”

“True,” he says proudly. “But I’m your emotionally available ass, at least for the next ten minutes.”

I shake my head, smiling despite myself.

He nudges his chin gently against the side of my head. “Seriously, though…you okay?”

I nod slowly. “Getting there.”

“You want to talk about it?”

I hesitate, then let out a breath. “My dad changed our Thanksgiving plans. Well—Nicole did. Her mom’s sick, so now they’re going out of town. And instead of asking if I wanted to come, they just…decided. Told me after the fact like it was a memo.”

Carter doesn’t say anything right away, just tightens his arm around me slightly.

“It’s not even about the holiday. It’s just…” I pause. “It’s a reminder that I’m not really a part of that family. Not fully. I’m the footnote. The guest who overstayed.”

He leans in closer, his voice lower now. “You know that’s bullshit, right?”

I shrug.

“Well,” he says. “If it helps, I’d absolutely fight someone’s grandma for you.”

I laugh again. “That might be the sweetest, most concerning thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“You’re welcome.” He pauses, then adds, “But seriously…you shouldn’t have to earn your place with people who are supposed to love you unconditionally.”

My throat tightens again, but the tears don’t come this time. Just quiet understanding.

“I didn’t expect you to show up,” I say softly.

His voice is quiet now too. “Yeah, well. I’ve got this annoying little habit of sometimes giving a shit.”

I lean back against his chest, letting my eyes flutter shut.

For a second, I let myself forget everything else—my dad, the internship, the weight I carry every day.

His voice rumbles low against my ear. “Hate to break up the emotional breakthrough, but I’ve got film in ten.”

I groan, not even trying to hide the disappointment in my voice. “Seriously?”

“Sadly Coach would probably frown on me skipping film review just because I’m busy holding his daughter in a closet. Alone. In the dark.”

I roll my eyes, but my smile gives me away. “You’re impossible.”

Carter shifts behind me, adjusting just enough to glance down at me. “You good? Like…good enough to be alone?”

I nod. “Yeah. I think so.”

He watches me a beat longer, like he’s checking for cracks. Slowly, he stands and offers his hand.

I take it.

He pulls me up gently, and for a second, we just stand there, way too close in the dim light. His fingers brush the edge of my shirt like he’s debating saying something else.

Then he smirks.

“If you need to ‘go deeper’ anymore today, I’m happy to offer those services.”

“Wow,” I deadpan. “How generous of you.”

Chuckling, he shoots me one last wink before slipping out the door.

Our apartment smells like soy sauce and vanilla, which is weirdly comforting.

Madison and I are curled up on the couch, surrounded by takeout containers and a half-eaten pint of cookie dough ice cream.

I’ve got my laptop balanced on my thighs, blue light reflecting off the screen while I edit slides for my athlete branding campaign. Madison is poking at the remains of her lo mein, even though she’s mostly abandoned it in favor of spiraling.

“I don’t know what to pack,” she says for the third time, dragging a blanket over her lap and letting her head flop sideways against the couch cushion.

“You do know his mom loves you, right?” I say, without looking up.

She sighs. “I know. That’s not the problem.”

I glance over, arching a brow. “Then what is?”

Madison presses her lips together, then says, “It’s just…this trip feels like more. You know? Like, we’re not just seeing his family. We’re staying with them. For multiple days. It’s different than when we were kids.”

“Okay?”

“It’s like crossing a line I’m not sure I’m ready to admit I already crossed.”

I close my laptop halfway and set it aside. “You’re scared it means something more.”

She nods; eyes still fixed on the string of Christmas lights we never took down from the bookshelf. “I mean, it already does. But going home with him feels like…a step I can’t take back.”

“You don’t want to take it back.”

“No, I don’t,” she admits quietly. “That’s what terrifies me.”

I watch her for a moment, then nudge the ice cream closer. “Okay. Well, in that case, you don’t need to pack anything. Just plan to be naked the whole trip.”

She blinks. “Excuse me?”

I grab a spoonful of cookie dough and flash her a look. “Solves the packing problem and guarantees Jaxon will worship the ground you walk on. Total efficiency.”

She laughs despite herself, grabbing a throw pillow and launching it at me. “You’re unhinged.”

“You’re in love.”

That shuts her up for half a second.

She sinks back into the couch. “I don’t really know what I’m feeling right now.”

“You’re allowed to be scared,” I say, quieter now. “You just don’t have to let fear decide for you.”

Madison doesn’t answer, but her hand finds mine between us on the couch, giving it a small squeeze before stealing my ice cream.

I fake a glare her way. “You bitch.”

Madison laughs as her head drops back against the couch, her legs stretched out like she’s officially given up on being productive for the night.

She’s still holding the pint of my cookie dough ice cream in one hand, the spoon lazily resting against her lips as she stares at the ceiling like it personally offended her.

“Oh yeah,” she says suddenly, turning to look at me. “You still going to your grandma’s with your dad for Thanksgiving?”

My stomach tightens.

I keep my eyes on my laptop screen and pretend to reread the same sentence I’ve already revised twice. “Yeah. That’s still the plan.”

Madison smiles and digs her spoon back into the pint she so shamelessly stole. “Good. I know it’s not exactly a dream getaway, but at least you’ll be around people who love you. And your grandma makes, like, ten types of pie, doesn’t she?”

“Eleven,” I say automatically, forcing a smile.

“Damn. Save me a slice of that caramel apple one.”

“Only if you save me from choking on the annual Harding family awkward silence.”

She laughs and nudges my leg with her foot. “We’ll FaceTime. You can judge Jaxon’s childhood bedroom decor and watch me lose at Monopoly.”

I nod, letting out a sound that passes as agreement. But the guilt wedges deeper between my ribs.

Because the truth is, I’m not going anywhere. My dad’s heading to Ohio with Nicole and Emmy, and I wasn’t invited.

And yeah, I could tell her that. Could let her cancel her trip and stay behind to keep me company.

But she’s happy. Finally. She’s about to spend a holiday with someone who adores her, in a home where she’s wanted.

So, I lie.

And I let her keep the damn ice cream.

The apartment’s quiet, except for the occasional thud of Madison dragging her suitcase out of her

closet and grumbling about underwear. I’ve been pretending to focus on my laptop for the last

twenty minutes, but I haven’t typed a single word.

My phone buzzes on the couch cushion beside me.

Carter Hayes: you die or are you just ghosting me now that I’ve seen you cry?

I roll my eyes and smile at the same time, already typing back.

Bold of you to assume I cried. Maybe I was faking it to get you to shut up.

Carter Hayes: you’re hotter when you lie.

And you’re cockier when I let you help me breathe.

Carter Hayes: I’d offer mouth-to-mouth next time

Carter Hayes: for safety reasons

Carter Hayes: strictly medical

You’re unbelievable.

Carter Hayes: and yet you keep replying. Weird.

It’s either this or listen to Madison try to pick a “wholesome sleepover outfit” to wear in front of Jaxon’s mom.

Carter Hayes: lmao

Carter Hayes: I vote nothing. bold choice. power move.

That’s literally what I told her!

Carter Hayes: I knew there was a reason I liked you

Carter Hayes: besides the hair

Carter Hayes: and the mouth

Carter Hayes: and the thighs

Carter Hayes: and the attitude

Carter Hayes: but mostly the attitude

Carter Hayes: arguing with you is basically foreplay

Are you done?

Carter Hayes: not even close, but I’ll stop before I start writing poetry about your eyes or some weird sappy shit.

I stare at the screen, biting back a grin that feels too easy after the day I’ve had.

Thanks again. For earlier.

Carter Hayes: don’t thank me

Carter Hayes: just let me be your go-to closet guy from now on

Closet guy? That’s the title you’re going with?

Carter Hayes: better than side piece

Carter Hayes: or emotionally available QB1

Carter Hayes: fine. new title: emotional support hottie

You’re ridiculous.

Carter Hayes: but I made you smile

Carter Hayes: and I’d do it again

Carter Hayes: dream of me

I roll my eyes, cheeks warm, and type one last message.

Only if you behave in them.

Goodnight, Hayes.

Carter Hayes: no promises. Night, Princess.