21. Brayden
brAYDEN
brAYDEN
Lying in the stiff, over-bleached sheets of a mid-level hotel room the night before an away game was always a special brand of misery.
I hated not being in my own bed. I hated the buzzing AC that either froze you into a popsicle or roasted you alive depending on its mood.
I hated the way the mattress always felt like it had been punched repeatedly by the last twenty guests.
And tonight, I hated it even more because all I wanted—desperately, restlessly—was to be with Karla.
I’d thought I’d be exhausted after the flight, after the late practice, after the post-practice video review.
But instead, I lay there wired, heart pounding like I’d had six energy drinks instead of one sad hotel room coffee.
My phone sat on the charger on the nightstand.
I grabbed it before I could stop myself.
Me: Have any plans for this weekend?
Karla: Hanging out in the city with my two friends from college.
Me: That sounds like fun.
Karla: It’s better than my old standby of binging The Walking Dead with a tub of ice cream.
Me: You don’t need to binge on anything but me from now on. No man is going to make you feel the way I will.
Karla: But… what if I want to binge on ice cream and Netflix?
Me: I will be there with a huge spoon and all the ice cream from the supermarket.
Karla: You’re too good to be true.
Me: You deserve to have someone that is.
Karla: I am going to bed. I have to be in at seven in the morning.
Me: I need to get some shuteye, too. Goodnight, beautiful.
Karla: Sleep well, love.
Love.
She called me love.
My whole chest tightened and then expanded at the same time—a goddamn emotional whiplash I wasn’t prepared for at eleven p.m. on a road trip.
I set my phone down, stared up at the ceiling, and exhaled slowly.
The cheap popcorn texture reminded me of every other hotel I’d spent nights in—lonely, restless, and cold.
But tonight wasn’t like the others. There was someone on the other end of my screen I actually wanted to come home to.
Someone who made everything feel… sharper, richer, more alive.
I rolled out of bed and stretched. My body ached from the day, but the ache in my chest was the one I couldn’t shake. It wasn’t bad—just persistent. Like I’d swallowed the sun and it was trying to burn its way through my ribs.
I needed a shower. Not to relax—just to do something. Something to keep me from replaying her laugh, her smile, the way she leaned forward when she got excited, the way her eyes softened when she said my name…
The bathroom light flickered on with a hum.
Steam began to fill the space as soon as I cranked the water to hot.
I stood in front of the mirror, the image of myself hazing at the edges.
Road-trip tired, messy hair, dark circles, the faint marks of gear and practice across my shoulders. I looked… wrecked.
But all I could think was how she’d run her fingers through my hair that night in my bed. How she’d looked up at me like she wasn’t scared anymore. Like she trusted me. Like she was letting me in.
It hit me so sharply I had to grip the counter.
I am so screwed.
I stepped into the shower, letting the hot water hit the back of my neck first. My muscles relaxed immediately, tension loosening one knot at a time. I braced my hands on the tile, let my head drop forward.
And then… the thoughts came.
Not dirty.
Not even intentionally sexual.
Just Karla.
Karla laughing.
Karla teasing me.
Karla walking toward me in that black dress from our date, confidence and nervousness warring on her face in a way that made me want to hold her and worship her and protect her all at once.
My heart hammered hard.
It wasn’t lust, not really—not just that. It was something deeper, heavier, something that made my stomach flip in a way I hadn’t felt in years. Something that made me want to be careful with her. Patient. Good. Better.
But of course my body reacted anyway—it wasn’t exactly subtle about that kind of thing. Heat curled low in my stomach, tightening as her voice echoed in my mind.
I swallowed hard. My pulse kicked up.
I wasn't going to pretend I was some saint. I was alone, in a hotel room, thinking about the woman I was falling for so fast it scared the shit out of me. Any guy with a heartbeat would've felt the pull I felt right now.
And yeah… I let my mind wander.
Not to anything explicit—just to the way she smiled shyly into her drink on our date. The way her breath hitched when I touched her hand. The way her dress clung to her hips, to her curves, to every place my hands wanted to be.
My breathing deepened. Steam curled around me like a second skin.
The moment was private, quiet, personal—an intimate exhale of want and tenderness. A slow surrender to the truth I kept trying to outrun:
I wanted her.
More than that—I cared about her.
More than that—I was falling for her.
Hard.
And it wasn’t just physical. I’d had just physical before. Physical was easy. Physical didn’t keep you awake in a hotel room with your hand braced on tile, heart racing like you were about to take the ice during overtime.
This—whatever this was—had gravity.
It pulled.
It wanted.
It hoped.
By the time the water began to run lukewarm, I’d barely moved. My thoughts had just… spun around her. Around us. Around everything we could be if neither of us panicked first.
I finally turned off the water and stepped out, towel still hanging loosely around my waist as I wiped the condensation from the mirror.
My reflection looked different. Softer around the eyes. More awake, even though it was almost midnight.
And yeah… a little wrecked from wanting her as badly as I did.
I grabbed my phone on the way back to bed. The screen lit up with the last text she’d sent.
I lay back against the pillows and whispered to the dark room, “Goodnight, Karla.”
Then, without meaning to, without planning it, the truth slipped out quiet and unguarded—“I’m already half gone for you.”
Sleep took a while to come. But when it did, she was in every single second of my dreams.