When I make it to her room, she’s already under the covers, the overhead light off. I slide in beside her, my chest to her back. It’s how we sleep every night, but tonight I pull her closer. She doesn’t melt against me as she does most nights or place her feet on my legs.
“I’m sorry for being an asshole,” I tell her.
Her shoulders relax and she turns her head slightly. “We aren’t just together for sex. You can talk to me, confide in me.”
I hold her a little tighter though a part of me wants to push her away, feeling an undercurrent of resentment that she doesn’t realize how much I confide in her. I’ve told her shit I haven’t even told my closest friends.
She lies her head flat on the pillow, and we both lie there, neither of us speaking or sleeping for what feels like an eternity.
I wake up before my alarm goes off. I slip out of bed, careful not to disturb Hadley. I down a coffee, brush my teeth, grab dress clothes, and then head for the facility.
Today, I beat even Hudson. Only the nutritionists and chefs are here this early, preparing a protein-heavy diet for the game.
I pass them, heading into the weight room where I take a seat at a bench and hope the repetitive movement will silence the myriad of thoughts about the future and where I’ll be, and if it will include Hadley.
I’ve known her just shy of three months, and already it feels as though she’s a piece of me, even more than my ex had and we dated for five years. I knew it from the beginning, even before we began sleeping together. There’s something different about her, something different about the way I feel toward her, about us, that I can’t put into words. Something beyond lust and attraction that makes my soul feel heavy when she’s gone.
“You’re here early,” Krueger says, stopping in the doorway, dressed in khakis and a blue Camden sweatshirt.
“Please tell me you don’t have more advice before today’s game.”
He laughs mirthlessly. “That wasn’t advice yesterday, Payne. It was a nudge.”
I scoff. “A nudge off of a cliff.”
He shakes his head. “What’s got you so scared?” he asks.
My head snaps to him. “I’m not scared.”
“Then why won’t you tell me how bad you want to play? Want to go pro.”
“Because I’ve seen what happens when someone’s dreams unravel.”
“Yours or someone else’s?”
“Without expectation, it’s a lot easier to stay content.”
He shakes his head again. “That’s bullshit, and you know it. If you want this, if you want to beat out every other asshole, you’re going to have to be clear and concise in exactly what you want.”
“And if they don’t want me?”
Krueger leans back on his heels. “Then they don’t deserve you. You play another year for Camden and when you close your contract you mail a copy of it to whatever idiot overlooked and underestimated you.” He stares at me. “But for the record, I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
I stare at him for a long minute, imagining what this season would have looked like if Peters hadn’t handcuffed him. Krueger has a player’s heart and a coach’s brain, allowing him to weave creativity into his plays.
Slowly, I nod.
He nods in return. “Let’s go get some breakfast.”
Peters hobbles in on his crutches before we can move. “I’m glad I found you both. There are going to be some changes to tonight’s game, and I wanted to give you the courtesy of hearing it from me. Payne, McKinley, and Palmer won’t be starting tonight. I’ll let them know as well.”
“That’s bullshit. This is my call and they’re starting,” Kreuger says, taking a single step closer to Peters.
Peters sneers. “It’s my team and it’s my call. If they can’t follow my rules, I’ll find someone who will. They nearly cost us the game last week.”
“We’re the only reason you won that game,” I say.
Peters glares at me. “Speak to me again that way, and you won’t start next week either.”