“I know. It’s a good thing Jillian had to work,” she said. “That way she doesn’t have to watch this train wreck.”
Jillian was our other roommate and had been dating the Bulldogs’ goalie, Mendez, for the past eight months. Mendez wasn’t faring well tonight, so it was probably better for both of them that she wasn’t here to witness the bloodshed.
Four minutes later, the buzzer sounded and the game ended with a final score of five-nothing. It was bad enough to lose to our rival team, but the shutout really added insult to injury. Especially since Luke was usually one of our top scorers.
Amelia and I made our way out of the stands and stood in the concourse, eating concession popcorn and waiting for the team. It took longer than normal for them to change and debrief, probably because Coach Brown was tearing them a new one. Rightly so.
Paul was one of the first to emerge from the locker room, shoulders dropped and face drawn.
Amelia shot me an apologetic look. “Sorry, I’ve got to talk to him for a sec.”
“It’s fine.” I waved her off. Just because my relationship was toast didn’t mean I expected Amelia to abandon hers.
She darted over to greet him, and he leaned down, embracing her in a huge hug that made my heart ache. I clenched my teeth and stuffed the sadness down. But more difficult to ignore was that I was now standing alone in the concourse like some kind of lurker. Other Bulldogs teammates emerged, one after another, but no one came over to me.
No one even waved or said hi.
My stomach twisted. What, exactly, was my endgame here? Did I really think I’d go out with them after Luke dumped me?
I took out my phone and scrolled mindlessly while debating whether I should wait for Derek or call an Uber and bail. My breath caught as Luke trudged out of the locker room, blond hair still damp, expression stony. He glanced over to the throng of people—his friends, who, until today, I’d thought were mine too—then back over to where I was standing alone. Our eyes locked, but he stayed where he was.
After a few awkward seconds where he watched me and I watched him, he walked over to me with a noticeable air of reluctance. Every step was so slow, he was practically dragging his feet.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” I locked my phone and slid it into my back pocket. “Some tough breaks out there tonight. Good effort, though.”
He shrugged, but his tense expression spoke volumes. “We’ll get them next time.”
“Totally.” I nodded. “So…”
We stood, bathed in painful silence, for what seemed like an hour but was probably less than a minute. Humiliation swelled in my gut. Why had I come? Because I thought Luke would change his mind? Or because I thought he’d realize he made a mistake?
I was the one who’d made a mistake.
Starting with him.
“Come on, Morrison,” Mendez hollered, waving at him impatiently. The team was clustered around the front doors, surrounded by girlfriends and hangers-on, making their way to the exit. Only two days ago, I would have been there too.
“In a second,” Luke called, looking over his shoulder. He glanced back at me. “Uh, I should go.”
“Okay.”
I hadn’t seen Derek yet. He was always one of the last to leave the locker room. But once he came out, he’d be out the door right behind them. I knew where my brother’s loyalties fell, and it wasn’t with me. It wasn’t like he could help, anyway. Tagging along with them was out of the question, which meant I was headed home to cry into a pint of ice cream while watching Grey’s Anatomy re-runs. I didn’t need company for that.
“I’ll text you,” Luke said.
I wanted to say don’t bother, but I nodded and walked away, heading for the women’s bathroom. I could hide in there until they left.
As I pushed open the swinging door, my phone vibrated with a new text.
Amelia: Where are you going? Are you coming with us?
Bailey: Too weird with Luke. Heading home.
Amelia: You sure? I can come with you.
Bailey: No, it’s okay. I’m fine. Just need some alone time.
I used the bathroom and washed my hands as slowly as possible, trying to ensure they would be gone before I came back out. I’d just tossed my paper towel in the trash when Zara texted, responding to a message I’d sent her earlier about Luke.
Zara: I’m so sorry, hon. Are you okay? Are you at home?
Bailey: No, I’m at Northview.
Zara would have no idea what that meant—she was a fellow journalism major, also on the school paper, and one of only a few friends not enmeshed in the world of hockey—so I elaborated.
Bailey: Boyd U arena. Game just ended so I’m headed home for the night.
Zara: The hell you are. Noelle and I are taking you dancing. Stay put and send me your location. I’ll be there in ten.
OceanofPDF.com
CHAPTER 4
OceanofPDF.com
AIR TRAFFIC CONTROLLER
Bailey
An hour later, I was crammed into a borrowed miniskirt and standing in a nightclub. That I was wearing heels and makeup for the second night in a row illustrated just how drastically my life had gone off the rails.
“Oh my god. That’s disgusting.” I slammed the empty shot glass on the bar, shuddering. The acrid alcohol lingered on my tongue and burned as it traveled down my throat.
Noelle laughed, handing me my drink. “It’s just tequila, B.”
“It’s awful, is what it is.” I frantically sipped my raspberry vodka seltzer, trying to wash away the horrid aftertaste.
“Sorry,” Zara said, tucking a lock of auburn hair behind her ear. “I forgot you’re not a big drinker. Next round, we’ll make it something easier, like blue balls.”
“Blue balls?” I recoiled. “That sounds even worse.”
“Nah. It’s Malibu and a few other things. But it’s delicious. Doesn’t even taste like alcohol.”
“If you say so.”
Loud bass reverberated through my body, and I swayed on the spot to the DJ’s remix. They had dragged me to a new club called XS on the other side of town. Because it was technically considered Falcons’ territory, it was the kind of place I would usually avoid—which made it the perfect place to drown my sorrows. There was no way Luke would be here. None of the team would be. And tonight, the anonymity felt like freedom.
As the alcohol kicked in, warming my veins, thoughts of tonight’s game and yesterday’s devastation faded into the background. Maybe drinking did make my current situation more tolerable.
Zara propped herself up on the bar, resting her elbows on the top and surveying the crowd methodically. “I think you need a rebound, Bails.” She raised her brows, watching me as she sipped her rum and coke through a yellow straw. “You know what they say: the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.”
I adjusted my black skirt, which rode up every two seconds. It belonged to Noelle and was about three inches too short for my liking. “Zara, it just happened.”
“Exactly.” Noelle nodded emphatically, her aquamarine eyes serious. “Beat him to the punch.”
My stomach lurched at her unintentional implication that Luke would also be moving on with someone else in the near future. Maybe I did need that blue balls shot after all.
“No way. With the way my luck is going, I’d end up going home with a serial killer.”
“Maybe Luke is the cause of your bad luck.” Zara shrugged. “When was the last time you two did it, anyway?”
It had been longer than I cared to admit. He’d been busy with training and classes, and I’d been juggling a heavy course load. I’d told myself it was a slump, but the truth was, sex had become more of a chore than anything.
Thinking back, I couldn’t remember the last time we’d actually done it. Maybe after the party at Paul’s parents’ lake house in August? That was over a month ago, but that was normal, wasn’t it? Couples had ups and downs. Even if some of the downs lasted a while.