Page 49

“It’s broken, Zeke,” I yell at my roommate as he stands on the opposite side of my room with his arms crossed.

If he’s bothered by my aggression, he doesn’t show it.

There are multiple factors fueling my anger at this point.

One being, I clearly can’t play in our championship game tonight.

Two being I watched Abby walk away from me the other day, and I didn’t do a damn thing about it.

The biggest one, though, would be that she came for me.

She knew something was wrong, and she saved me from the plan these two had.

We now know they have a thing for fire, pyros if you will.

They were counting on the fact that she would come look for me, and then they were going to send the building up in flames.

Luckily, Abby is a badass and knocked Tristan out, then handcuffed Nikki to a pillar.

Her brothers had ambulances and half the local police force sitting outside listening to everything that was going on.

The ridiculous amount of evidence they found at their house was enough to have them both locked up for years.

The gas cans they had stashed around the museum weren’t much help for their case either.

Apparently, Nikki and Tristan had dated in high school.

When I met her, they had been broken up for about a year.

Our relationship sadly added fuel to Tristan's fire to “ruin the Wilders.” He was damn good at pretending though, I’ll give him that.

Nikki had her own motives, something along the lines of trapping the Soccer player, making me “need her.” How she expected to do that when she tried to ruin the career that would have g iven her the life she was after, I don’t know.

But she’s proven time and time again to be an absolute idiot.

Zeke snaps his fingers in my face, pulling me from my internal thoughts.

“I know it’s broken, I was there when they told you that.

But you still need to come with me. So, get your stubborn ass up, and get ready.

” He hangs his head, letting it shake a few times before running a hand through his hair.

He gestures to the painting I finished earlier of Abby and me in the corner of her couch. “I get it. You’re pissed, rightfully so. But showing up isn’t about you and your pity party, Wilder. It’s about our team. She wouldn’t want you sitting here pouting like a two-year-old.”

A little birdie flies from my fingertips, and he snorts. “They don’t need me, especially not like this.”

“You might be useless on the field right now...” My eyes cut to his, he holds up his hands letting me know he isn’t finished. “But they still need to know you care. You’re a leader on this team. Don’t let them win. This is exactly what Abby was trying to prevent.”

A forceful exhale leaves me, my hands balling into fists.

“Stop bringing her up.” I know what he’s saying, and I know he’s right.

But I don’t want to think about her more than I already am.

I’m drowning without her, I don’t know how I existed before her.

I’d give anything for her to throw me a scrap of her sass right now.

Standing, I lose my balance in this stupid boot and fall back onto my bed.

I throw my head back and look at the ceiling.

This is stupid. I’m stuck, sidelined, absolutely useless.

He must notice my defeat because his voice softens.

“I know it sucks, dude. But whether you like it or not, the team needs you. ”

I shake my head. They don’t. “Nah, they need the guy who scores goals, who wins games. Not this pathetic version of him who sits on the sidelines and feels sorry for himself.”

His hand lands on my shoulder like it has hundreds of times before. “Then don’t sit there and feel sorry for yourself. Sit there and support them. Cheer them on. Be to them what you need when you’re playing.”

Apparently, I sit in silence for too long because before I know it, Zeke positions himself under my arm with his eyebrow raised in challenge. “Look, you can either come willingly, or I’ll deliver you myself,” he smirks, “You know I will.”

I shoot him a glare before shaking off a smile of my own. “I hate you,” I mumble as I push him off me.

Sure enough, the ogre was right. My team gave me hug after hug, I think I’m good on any physical touch from anyone other than Abby for the next century.

My good leg bounces up and down as Diaz takes the ball over the midfield line.

“To your right, D. The right!” I yell. Can he hear me?

I don’t know, but he moves the ball out of the way of the defender like he did.

My coach is pacing up and down the bench with his clipboard, making notes and yelling changes as needed.

It’s a different perspective than I normally get on game days. I’m not usually on the bench; I play both halves and only take the fi fteen-minute halftime to rest. It gets me thinking, maybe when my days are over, I can coach. Our coach is a grumpy lad. I’d fit right in with the coaching staff.

“Wilder!” My coach yells, catching me totally off guard.

My head quickly snaps his way as he bends down in front of me, drawing some formation that I can barely make out with the chicken scratch he’s got going on.

“What do you think of this? Their offense has been solid. I think we need to change it up.”

He wants to set up a three-five-two, meaning he’d take one of our forwards out and add one to the defense.

Two forwards, three midfielders, and five defenders.

A formation we very rarely practice. But the Patriots are up two to one, and it’s thirty-two minutes into the second half.

We don’t have a lot of time. I nod. “Let me talk to Stone,” I clip before he can walk off.

Coach calls a timeout, and Stone jogs up as I tilt my chin in his direction. “You good?” he nods, grabbing the water from my outstretched hand. “Coach wants to change the formation, he’d take Tylers out and put him on D.” I watch as he juggles that around in his mind for a second.

“Alright. We can handle it. I just need an opening.” I know that, but there’s not much I can do from here.

The Patriots are a really good team, and they came to leave it all on the field tonight.

It’s now, that I finally look up at the stands and notice my entire family, Hannah included, behind me.

Zeke’s words pick the most inconvenient time to replay in my head.

Be for them what you need when you're playing.

“Their center is favoring his left side. If you can pull the ball to the right, you might be able to get around him. At least with enough time for a breakaway.” He rubs his jaw as he watches me.

“Look, yeah, this is a big game. But don’t think about it that way.

We’r e still in the regular season, trying to make it to the playoffs.

Just play, your body knows what to do. Don’t stress, alright?

” He nods before the whistle blows, and he heads back to the field.

Not even two minutes after game play resumes, Stone scores, tying the game with eleven minutes left in regulation.

He points right at me as he runs into the huddle of our teammates.

Our coach looks over at me and gives me the closest thing to a smile I’ve ever gotten.

I turn back to look at my family, my parents wear matching smiles on their faces, my dad and Greyson’s hands clap wildly.

My mom is jumping up and down as she shakes my dad's shoulders. But it’s the proud smile on Hannah’s face that has me perking up just a bit.

She’s not obligated to love me like my family is, but knowing she’s here, supporting me when I don’t deserve it.

.. It might mean more to me than the actual trophy would.

“Another goal for the Strikers!” I hear over the speaker as my teammates go wild once again.

I missed it, too caught up in looking for the one woman who isn’t here.

The whistle blows, and the game is over.

We won. We freaking did it! I mean, they did it.

It was all them tonight. I’m proud of them, and truth be told, Zeke was right.

I would have hated myself even more if I missed this.

It’s been a month since the championship, Zeke’s been out celebrating every weekend since.

I, on the other hand, haven’t left the house.

The victory tastes bitter. I should have been celebr ating with my girl.

Asshole Tate couldn’t have picked a better time to resurface.

My head hits the back of the couch as I debate sending her a text, seeing if she wants to talk yet.

But she said she needed time, and Lord, if I’m not trying my hardest to give it to her.

The violent knocking on my door tells me everything I need to know about who’s on the other side.

Hobbling over, I swing it open, immediately turning my back, as I make my way back to where I had my foot elevated.

A fiery redhead makes her way into my field of vision as she sits on the coffee table next to my pile of pillows.

“You didn’t think to tell me that my best friend had been hurt by a bunch of creepy men who used to spike the drinks of women at every party they went to? ”

My nostrils flare as my heart rate kicks up to a dangerous level. “She conveniently left that part out.” I was already irritable before she got here, and now, it’s amplified tenfold. “Why are you here, Han?”

She sighs. “Abby didn’t show up for work today. I was hoping she was here, and you guys figured everything out.” I scrub my hands down my face, my skin suddenly feeling too tight. There’s a lot to unpack in those few sentences.