Page 134

I stare out the window silently as the team bus carries us toward Phoenix.

It’s raining, a rare occurrence for both Vegas and Phoenix, but the skies seem sad today as a light drizzle follows us down the highway.

It’s not doing my mood any favors, that’s for sure.

I try to muster up the enthusiasm I’ve felt in years past as the team bus carried us toward our final destination for the month of preseason games, but I can’t seem to find it anywhere within myself to feel even a tiny ounce of joy.

Instead, I keep my gaze focused out the window as I force myself to believe I’m doing the right thing no matter how wrong it feels.

But as much as I try to justify it, I’m having a hard time believing it myself.

Rush Ross asked if I wanted to stay in the same house with him and Danny, and I agreed. Now I’m wishing I would’ve just gotten my own place.

This will be good. It’s a private residence we’re splitting six ways—between myself, Danny, Rush, Duke, AJ, and Nick—while we’re here, and it’ll be the party house. It’ll give me something to do when I’m not playing so I don’t have a chance to dwell on everything I just lost.

I continue to keep my gaze out the window even when I feel someone slide into the seat beside me.

“You ever seen rain before?” Danny asks.

I don’t answer. I can’t turn to look at him. If I do, my gaze will catch on the back of Troy’s head, and I’ll just fall back down into the abyss.

“What happened, man?” he asks, his voice a little lower.

There’s nobody sitting in front of me. Nobody sitting behind me. No one will overhear if I confess what went down.

But I can’t form the words. I can’t seem to make my mouth work. I can’t seem to gather my thoughts into coherent strings of words. And I don’t want to, either.

“Is it Gabby?” His voice is a whisper, and I finally turn toward him.

I press my lips together and nod. “It’s over. Troy found out last night, and I don’t want to talk about it.”

He hisses out a breath through his teeth as if to say tough loss, man, but it’s so much more than that.

It doesn’t feel like a heartbreak—not the way my heart felt broken when I found out Stacy was cheating on me with a teammate.

It feels like something else entirely.

Like my entire body is breaking.

Like my very spirit was extracted from my body and left in the dust with hers.

I don’t know how to piece myself back together to make myself work again, but the problem is that I don’t have a choice. I was chosen to lead this team, and that’s why I’m sitting on this bus.

And no offense to Danny Brewer—he’s a great guy, but there’s just not a chance this is something he would ever understand.

“I’m sorry, man,” he says quietly. “I can’t imagine.”

And that sums it up.

He’s right.

He can’t imagine this sort of pain. He’s the guy who will find someone different to make moan every night we’re in Phoenix. He won’t make any real connections, won’t even give out his number, and he’ll start over again when he gets back to Vegas without a single care in the world.

It’s lonely, that life. But is it any worse than what I’m going through right now?

I remember those nights—and worse, the mornings. There was always the awkward moment when I had to say goodbye, or she’d hand me her number and I knew I wasn’t going to use it.

There was one in particular when I woke up and couldn’t remember her name. It only happened once, but it was one of those situations I still feel guilt over to this day. That’s not how I was raised, and it’s not how I wanted to live my life. The next woman I met after that was Stacy, and it was coincidental timing—and probably a big part of the reason why I was with Stacy as long as I was. I knew it was time to change something, and so I tried to make it work.

God, did I try.

I didn’t know it at the time, but I was putting all my effort into the wrong woman.

And now, I don’t even have the option to put it into the right one. I gave it up, and I’m watching it like a helium balloon I let go into the sky until it’s so far that it disappears from my sight.

“Listen, the right one will come along,” he says, and I know he’s trying to help, but I can’t help my retort.

“She did, and I was forced to give her up.” My voice is short, and I think it’s short enough that he’ll leave me alone about it.

I’m wrong.

“Why?”

I blow out a breath, and I finally turn to look at him, wincing as I do it because I’m not kidding when I say it feels like my entire body is broken.

“Who would your hall pass be?” I ask.

His brows dip. “Huh?”

“Your ultimate fantasy. The dream girl. If you were in a relationship and could fuck any celebrity if she crossed your path and she was game, no consequences to your relationship…who would it be?”

“Anyone?”

I nod. “Anyone.”

He doesn’t understand why I’m asking, but his reply is immediate. “Alexis Bodega.”

“The actress?”

He nods. “And singer-songwriter.”

“Isn’t she married?” I ask.

He shrugs. “In your scenario, you said there are no consequences.”

“Right,” I concede. “Why Alexis Bodega?”

“The banging body, for one thing, but also because I’m a man who can respect talent when I see it, and she’s a triple threat. She can act, sing, and dance, and I would love her to do all three while she’s naked underneath me.”

I make a face. “That’s a nice way to talk about a woman, man.”

He shrugs. “What about you? Who would yours be?”

I press my lips together and blow out a breath. “Don’t have one. I was with the only woman I ever wanted, and now it’s over.”

He makes a face of disgust. “That’s stupid. Everyone deserves a hall pass.”

“Everyone deserves what Gabby and I had. And I’m trying to convince myself that it was better to have had the experience than not, but right now I’m sort of feeling like I wish it never would’ve happened.”

He shakes his head. “This.” He nods toward me. “This right here is why I don’t bother with that shit, man. You’re fucking miserable, and it’s all because of one girl.”

I press my lips together. “I wish that were true, but the truth is that I’m miserable because of my own actions. I’m trying to believe I’m doing the right thing, but it feels dead wrong.”

“Then fix it.”

I turn my gaze back out the window.

Fix it.

If only it were that easy.