B: Because I’m tired, Nix. I’m tired of always feeling like this.
Me: Do you need me to come get you? We can blow off school and go hang out at the mill?
B: We can’t do that. Besides, you have practice to get ready for your big game tomorrow.
Fuck. I wanted to call her, I wanted to hear her voice and know she was okay. But Coach chose that moment to enter the room.
“Look alive, ladies. I want your asses out on the field in five.”
“Shit,” I murmured, weighing up my options. But before I could make a decision, another text came through.
B: Don’t worry about me, I’m fine, I swear. I just had a bad morning. I’ll tell you all about it later.
I lowered my cell phone behind my bag.
Me: You’re sure?
B: I’m sure. xo
“She okay?” Zane asked, looking concerned.
“I don’t know.”
“We need to get out on the field or Coach will tear us a new one,” Kye said.
“You two go, I’ll be right there.”
Even though it fucking pained me to do it, I pulled up another message thread.
Me: I need you to keep an eye on Harleigh for me.
The reply came a second later.
Miller: You got it.
Practice was a shitshow. I was unfocused, thinking about Harleigh. Thinking about last night, her moans and little sighs as I fucked her. Trying to figure out how it was possible to be on cloud fucking nine while bracing yourself for the impending storm rolling your way. Because that’s what being with her was like, a constant roller-coaster of emotion. Highs so high I felt like I was flying, and lows so low I wasn’t sure I’d ever fucking claw my way back to the surface.
“Let’s hope you get your shit together for tomorrow’s game, son.” Coach cut me with a scathing look. He knew why my head wasn’t in it and I didn’t blame him for being concerned. Because she was a distraction.
The best and worst kind.
Coach disappeared into his office, his twang of disappointment lingering in the air around me.
“He’s right, you know. This is exactly what I was worried—”
“Leave it, Z.” I ran a tense hand over my face.
“What. I’m just saying that you can’t afford to screw this up. She said she was okay.”
“And how many times have you told me and Kye you’re fine? That the shit with your gran is under control? How many times have I said I’m okay after limping into the locker room after another argument with my old man? It’s a bullshit answer and you know it.”
They both stared at me with stunned expressions.
“You really think something is wrong?”
“Nothing about any of this is right,” I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder and barging past them.
“Nix, man, come on, we didn’t mean—”