“No. He’s seeing a specialist this evening and we should know then. It will be two weeks minimum based on the bruising on his wrist and hip. He hasn’t broken anything, so rest and a few mobility actions should be enough, but his parents are demanding he gets a second opinion to be on the safe side.” He drags a hand down his face, and when I take a second to look at him properly, he seems about as ill and exhausted as I do. “He obviously lifts his girlfriend when they skate, so they don’t want to put her at risk if he’s not going to be strong enough in two weeks.”
“She’s not his girlfriend.” The words fly out of my mouth before I can even stop them and his eyes instantly close in on me.Fuck.
“If I find out this is over a woman, Hawkins, so help me God, I’ll kill you myself. I’m not totally clueless. I know this doesn’t add up, but what am I supposed to do when you tell me you did it?”
He pinches the bridge of his nose and I wish I had something to offer him in the way of an explanation.
“I don’t have the energy to scream at you right now; I’m too disappointed. I suggest you tell your guardian about this shit show because I do not want angry emails when you’re not playing. Now get the hell out of my office—I’ll call you later in the week.”
The walk to my car feels like a marathon, but I eventually make it, immediately reaching for painkillers and a bottle of water I stored in the glove box.
My phone is still blowing up, and I finally force myself to look at it because the guys deserve answers.
PUCKBUNNIES
JOE CARTER: Hawkins, you fucking turnip. What the hell is happening?
BOBBY HUGHES: Not been this stressed since I found out condoms aren’t 100% effective.
JAIDEN JOHAL: Excuse me? What was that now?
KRIS HUDSON: How are we supposed to play without a captain?
JAIDEN JOHAL: No let’s not move past the condom thing?????????
NATE HAWKINS: Can’t practice or play until Aaron can skate.
MATTIE LIU: How long is that?
NATE HAWKINS: *shrug emoji*
NATE HAWKINS: Going to Stassie’s place to try to talk to her.
NATE HAWKINS: See you all later.
My head is still throbbing, and I’ve never been as grateful for a car that drives itself as I am right now.
JJ texted me her apartment number since I’ve never been invited around and don’t know it. He was here on Saturday to drop off his jersey, so I hedge my bets that she hasn’t taken his name off the visitor list and give his name to the guy in the lobby. It works and thankfully he doesn’t ask me to provide ID. He hands me a temporary code to make the elevator work and tells me it’ll work for twenty-four hours.
It makes me happy that she lives in such a safe and secure building. When she’s not angry with me, and I’m not essentially committing fraud to gain entry, I’m going to mention I managed to lie my way in here.
But now is not the time.
Maple Tower is said to be the best accommodation Maple Hills offers, and I can see why—the whole block is luxurious and beautiful. Part of me wonders how Stas can afford it because I doubt her Saturday teaching job pays enough, and I know her scholarship doesn’t cover accommodation. But then I get to her door, apartment 6013, and right underneath the numbers in cursive, it says,The Carlisle Residence.
I take a deep breath and knock on the door a few times, hard but not frantic. I don’t want her to think I’m here for a fight because I’m not.
I can’t tell if the cramping in my stomach is anxiety or because my body and my brain are giving up. But the urge to vomit intensifies when the door pulls back, and Aaron is on the other side of it, only wearing basketball shorts.
“I’m here to see Anastasia. Can you get her for me, please?” I ask calmly. I want to scream at him, call him a liar, pummel my fist into his obnoxious fucking face, but I don’t.
He smiles at me. I swear I’m not imagining it, he smiles and moves to the side and opens the door wider, holding out his bandaged arm to indicate for me to come inside.
“She’s in her room,” he chirps, closing the door behind me.
“I don’t know which one that is,” I say, lifting an eyebrow. “I haven’t been here before.”
He shrugs and the fake smile drops. “Middle door. The one next to the table with flowers.”