“Great game, everyone,” Andrew exclaimed. We all cheered back. The mood was always filled with an infectious energy after a win, especially one so close to the cup game.
“Meet you in the hotel bar in half an hour?” he said once the bus stopped in front of the hotel.
“Yeah. I’m starving.”
A few others agreed with me.
“I’ll stop by the bar first and tell them to have snacks ready for us,” Andrew continued.
I headed straight to my room with one goal in my mind. I wanted to talk to my girl. Hadn’t heard from her in a while, and I missed her. She’d texted me before the game to wish me luck and tell me she’d watch it. I felt ridiculously proud that she took her time to follow the game, because I knew she did it mostly for me.
I sat outside on the balcony as I called Brooke.
“Great game,” she greeted.
“Which shot did you like most?” I asked, just to tease her.
“Hey, don’t mock me. Now, if you want to know what your sexiest pose is, that I can tell you.”
I chuckled. “That’s what you paid attention to?”
“Oh, yeah. Gave it my full attention.”
“It’s good to hear you.”
“You too. So, listen, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Go ahead.”
She went on to tell me about some of the sponsors dropping me, which was a bummer. I’d already promised those paychecks to the foundation.
I had plenty of financial backup, so donating was not an issue. But bringing the sponsors in had had a wider scope—they could provide a network for the students there. I should have seen it coming though, after the blowout on the gala evening. Brooke sounded beat about it, and I wanted to put her at ease.
“Brooke, it’s no big deal. I’m not worried. With you on my side, I’m sure we’ll get new ones in no time.”
“You’re the MVP. New sponsors will be beating at your door in no time.”
Something about her phrasing sounded off. She wasn’t including herself in that scenario.
“I can’t wait for the championship to be over. We could go on a vacation afterward, just relax for a week or two.”
“We’ll see.”
There was zero enthusiasm in her voice. I frowned, suddenly feeling off-kilter. Was something wrong with my girl? She didn’t sound like herself.
“Fly in for the semifinal on Saturday, Brooke.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Why not? I’ve looked at flights. There’s one on Friday in the evening, or even on Saturday, and another one going back on Sunday in the evening. You wouldn’t have to take a day off, and you’d get me all to yourself the entire Sunday.”
“Jace... I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“You already have plans?”
“Nothing is set in stone yet.”
That didn’t sound convincing, especially since last time we spoke, she’d said she was just planning to have a lazy weekend. I missed her like crazy. Didn’t she feel the same?