Chapter Thirty-Two - Thalia
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Thalia
I’VE SPENT ALMOST my entire trip going back and forth as to whether I overreacted with Sebastian. One hour, the answer would be a definitive yes, I was being dramatic . The next hour, it morphed into he was being a jerk .
Unfortunately, all the back and forth is no help with my brain deciding if my reaction was justified.
I rub my hands over my face tiredly, wishing I had half the energy some of the people in this airport seem to have. The screen to my right flickers out of the corner of my eye, but the sudden groan of the people surrounding me redirects my attention completely.
“A forty-five minute delay? I’m never going to make my connecting flight!” a woman complains loudly, and my stomach twists. That delay and the traffic I’m assuming will be around the stadium for the rivalry game means I’m never going to make it before kickoff.
Fuck me.
I’m mad, but not mad enough to let Sebastian think I’m bailing. I did miss him over the last few days, and I hoped we’d have a chance to talk .
I pull up his contact, pressing his phone number before I can talk myself out of it, and almost like Bash can telepathically understand my thought process, he picks up.
“Hi,” I say shyly, and I immediately face-palm. I’m not shy, and I never have been.
“Hey,” he replies, and I shift in my seat.
“I’m sorry—”
“I’m sorry—”
“Bash—”
“Thalia—”
I chuckle in relief, already feeling a little better. “Wait, let me talk,” I blurt out quickly, and Bash falls quiet. “I’m sorry about our fight. I was upset because I love Henry, and all I want to do is help Chris, but I feel helpless. The situation sucks, and I didn’t handle it right by taking my frustration out on you. I’m not saying you’re right about me not handling change well, but I…I overreacted, and I’m sorry.”
Sebastian is quiet enough that I can hear commotion in the background, meaning he’s already at the stadium. Shit.
“I know, love. You’re doing everything you can, and I admire you for it. I shouldn’t have said what I did. I’m sorry too.”
Man, we’ve definitely matured from our days of yelling at each other.
“I’ve really missed you,” I admit as more people in front of the screen start to complain about the delay.
“I missed you too,” Bash echoes. “When does your flight get in? I want to talk more about this with you, but…”
“You have a game. I didn’t forget, I promise,” I say, grabbing my carry-on to move to a quieter area. “I’m doing my best to make it, but my flight was just delayed. I wanted to at least try and clear the air so you didn’t think I was still upset with you, but I’m going to do my best to get there before halftime.”
“Hey, it’s okay if you don’t make it. I want you here, but I want you to be safe. It’s just a game; there’s no reason to rush.”
“I love you, Bash,” I say, my eyes filling with tears because that might be the sweetest damn thing he’s ever said.
“I love you too. We’ll talk after the game, okay? I have something to talk to you about, and I want to hear all about your trip,” he says, just as the background noise gets louder on his end.
I shake my head as my mind immediately spirals to worst case scenario after the last few days. “I really wish you would just start telling me the things you want to tell me instead of saying you have something to tell me. It sends my brain immediately to worst case scenario every time.”
He laughs deeply as I roll my eyes, glad that he finds this amusing. “Thalia, I promise it’s nothing bad. If you really want to know, then I can tell you now.”
“I really think I’d prefer that so I don’t spend the entire flight back hypothesizing theories.”
“Well, when everything happened with Kiera, my agent gave me the number of a private investigator, in case I needed it. I called to have him look into Allie, but I haven’t heard anything yet. I only thought that if there’s something he can find to help Chris keep Henry, it doesn’t hurt to try.”
No fucking way. “You didn’t have to do that, but thank you. I…I don’t even have the right words.” My smile is so wide, I wish he were here to see it.
“Anything for you,” his voice rumbles, before he sighs. “I’m really sorry, but I have to go. ”
“Kick some Falcon ass out there today; I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
~
I made it to the stadium after halftime, just in time to see Sebastian get sacked. My stomach drops, but it’s quickly replaced with relief as he staggers to his feet. Blake is chatting absently with one of the other wives, and I make my way to sit next to her.
Her face lights up when she spots me. “Lia! You made it!”
I plop into the seat, shaking my head. “Barely. My flight kept getting delayed, but I didn’t want to miss this game.”
“Did you see Bash get hit a minute ago?”
“I did,” I confirm, smiling at Gina, a wife who does book club with Blake, where she sits on the other side of Blake. “How is it going?”
“It’s awful. The refs are missing half the calls, but we’re still playing strong,” Gina says, as I turn to scan the field for Sebastian and Owen.
“So how was—”
I cut off Blake by leaping out of my seat at the same time as Gina to yell at the refs as a player on the other team jolts forward before the snap. “Offside! How the hell do you miss that? You’re right there!” I shout exasperatedly, my patience already at a low from my morning at the airport.
“Bullshit. Utter bullshit.”
“Agreed.”
Apparently Owen agrees with us because we can see on the screens where he’s saying something to the player opposite of him. The other player leaps forward, shoving Owen back .
Blake gasps. “What the hell are they doing?”
“Oh shit,” I swear under my breath, noticing the last name on the player. It’s Brandon Erikson, the defensive end who hit on Blake two years ago.
Owen shoves him back, knocking Erikson to the ground. Another Falcons player runs at Owen to hit him from the side, and all hell breaks loose.
Whistles are blown, flags are being thrown, and the announcers in the background are going wild at the action on the field.
Blake drops her face into her hands, shaking her head. “I can’t watch. Let me know when it’s over.”
Honestly, I’m glad I made it in time for this.
It takes a few minutes for the referees to break up the brawl on the field, and the only player ejected is Erikson. While there’s a very real chance Owen said something to provoke him, Erikson put hands on Owen first, starting the whole thing.
“Damn, is it bad that I’m a little turned on?” Gina asks, fanning her face, and I grin widely.
“Not bad at all; sex after games is the best kind because their adrenaline is still pumping. Throw in a fight, and I’m sure it guarantees toe-curling stamina,” I point out, and Blake’s cheeks flush a bright red.
“You know, I don’t know if I can handle sitting with both of you at these. It might be too much for my brain to handle,” Blake jokes, pulling out her phone to scroll.
The players are resetting on the field, but there’s a tension in the stadium that is heightened from before the brawl. “I’m going to pretend that you’re paying attention to this huge rival game, and that you didn’t just say that. ”
Gina snorts, taking a drink of her cocktail. “She never pays attention.”
“It’s not like there’s a shortage of games. There’s always going to be another one, and like I tell my husband, I love him, but not the sport.”
“You’re ridiculous,” I say, laughing softly, but I respect her for sticking to her guns.
Blake laughs, her eyes shining brightly. “The same could be said about you! You’re always yelling at the refs; wouldn’t it make more sense to be down on the field with your camera?”
“Wait, is that an option? I’d love if they could actually hear some of my insults,” Gina thinks out loud, and it sounds great in theory, but the last time I was down on the field, I ran onto the field.
“You know that Owen and Bash decided I wasn’t allowed to be down there after that incident in college,” I say, rolling my eyes.
Gina peers at me curiously. “What incident in college?”
“She ran onto the field after Bash took a bad hit,” Blake explains, inhaling sharply as she looks at the field at the same time Owen is tackled by two players.
“That looks like it hurt,” I mumble under my breath, holding the edge of the seat as my brother is slow to get up. He’s getting beat up today, and he isn’t getting any younger. A quick close-up on his face shows he’s seething behind a grimace, but he waves off the trainers jogging onto the field to check on him.
“I’m sure it did hurt. This game is brutal,” Gina says.
The fans in the stadium are roaring, and the atmosphere spikes anxiety in me. This rivalry runs deep, but today is being taken to another level .
Our defense thankfully shuts down their last attempt to take the lead, getting the ball back into Sebastian’s hands with only a minute to go. All we need is to get close enough to kick a field goal to ensure our lead, but with how physical the game is, I’m not sure how likely that is.
I expect Bash to play the short game, piece together a few downs just to give us a shot, but my jaw drops as he falls back, launching a beautiful spiral down the field as Owen slips through a gap in the Falcons’ defense, set up perfectly for the throw. Once the ball lands safely in his hands, he takes off down the field like his life depends on it, crossing into the end zone in seconds.
The entire box erupts into cheers, including Blake, the relief infectious. I’m practically jumping in excitement as the clock runs out, and I can only imagine how Owen and Sebastian are feeling right now.
Owen is strutting like a peacock when we find him after he leaves the locker room, but Bash is being interviewed by the press. His smile grows noticeably brighter as he spots me, but he motions subtly for us to go without him. “Man, that was the perfect play to run. I only wish Erikson hadn’t been ejected so I could have seen the look on his face after I ran in that touchdown.”
I roll my eyes at him, shaking my head. “Can’t it be enough that you scored, and you won?”
Owen kisses Blake’s cheek, intertwining her fingers with his as she smiles at him adoringly. Y uck, is that what Bash and I look like?
“It’s enough, but it would have been the icing on the cake to see his face,” Owen admits, leading the way. “Lia, Bash told me to ask you if you knew your schedule for this week? We were talking about going to the Duke game next Friday, and I was going to buy tickets.”
“Oh shit, my boss sent me an email earlier about something happening next Friday,” Blake says, reaching for her purse, but she groans. “I forgot to grab my phone in the suite.”
“Do you want me to go get it?” Owen offers, but she shakes her head.
“It’s okay, I’ll meet you at the car,” Blake says, kissing his cheek quickly before turning back, continuing to dig through her bag.
“I think I need to tie a string to her phone and then tie it to her wrist. She always forgets it everywhere.” Owen chuckles as he watches her walk away.
“Yeah, she does,” I agree, laughing quietly. “That was a brutal game. How are you feeling?” I ask, eyeing him carefully.
He rolls his shoulders, but the movement is stiff. “I’m sore, but I’ll be fine.”
“Did you let the trainers look at you?”
Owen’s brown eyes find mine, telling me all I need to know. “Bash got hit too; are you planning on asking him the same thing?”
“Absolutely,” I say, walking through the exit into the humid air. “Don’t get mad because I’m worried about you.”
“I’m not mad, but I don’t need you to worry about me. I really am fine. Nothing some stretching won’t fix,” Owen insists, smiling as we start the trek into the parking lot.
“Okay, I believe you.” Maybe I can talk to Blake later to see if he gives her a different answer.
“Good. Now tell me about your trip; how was Maine? ”
“It’s beautiful there, and I think the magazine will be happy with what I have for the—” I falter at the sudden screeching of tires, turning my head to look that direction as I’m shoved backward quickly. Pain explodes immediately from my arm and in my skull when I hit the pavement at the same time the sound of breaking glass echoes through the air.
What…happened?
“ Owen ,” I whisper, trying to hear something past the ringing in my ears. I try to move to push myself up, but my arm gives out underneath me as everything disappears.