Chapter 19
HANNAH
I sit alone in my cabin, legs bouncing with anxiety.
There’s been no word of Noah’s condition.
I keep checking my phone in between staring at the door, waiting for Maya with any type of news.
She left a couple of hours ago to talk with her parents, trying to get some information, yet the silence of not knowing is killing me.
Noah is a condescending douche, but to get hurt, especially to the point of knocking oneself out, is scary and might lead to other complications. And I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.
Time ticks on, my stomach jumbled with knots, when finally Maya lets herself in, her face an ashen mess.
“It’s not bad, but it was a close call,” she says, sagging to the nearest chair.
Sweet lord. “What did they say?”
“Mild concussion, no sprain. He got very lucky, Hannah.” She runs her hands down her face. “The question is, will he participate after he’s healed up?”
“I’m sure he would…right?” Crap, even I’m nervous about the unknown.
She rolls her neck, then her shoulders. “Right now, he’s stable and resting. The doctor says it’ll be a couple of days for recovery, but if he continues resting, we have a solid chance of him returning right before the event.”
I blow out a long breath, releasing some of the nerves, causing my stomach to flip. “Well, that’s good. I hate to say this, and don’t quote me on it, either, but having Noah and his talent in the event is going to help save the resort.”
“Oh, I will most definitely quote you on it. He was recommended to stay off screens, too. After that, he should be good to go.”
I sigh with relief, anxiety exiting my body in one big whoosh.
Maya doesn’t say anything else, just stares off into space, biting her lip. She looks like she’s encountered her first ghost.
I tap her knee with my foot. “Maya?”
“I ran into Gift Card Dude.” Her tone sounds like she just witnessed a murder.
“And?”
Her face falls into her hands. “We have a date.”
I try my best not to laugh, but the sound slips out of me before I can cover my tracks.
Maya peeks through her fingers, a threatening look in her eyes. “It’s not funny.”
“Come on, it is a little bit. How did your worlds collide again?” Even though it was inevitable because he’s staying at her family resort, which she mentioned on their last date, I find immense satisfaction in teasing her about it.
“Right outside YOUR cabin, that’s how!”
I burst out laughing, finding the odds against her hilarious, when she’s tried so hard up to this point in hiding from the poor guy.
“You find too much joy in my suffering,” she mutters.
“Forgive me, but I am enjoying the free entertainment.”
She tosses her dark curls aside and flips me off. “Now that I’ve given you the best stand-up of your life, can we go eat? I’m starving.”
“Sure, sure.” I throw on my pink puffer jacket and blue winter hat as Maya leads the way to the dining hall.
Jill stops us halfway up the steps. “Hey, girls, getting some lunch?”
“Yeah, is the sandwich station available?” asked Maya, lingering on the bottom step.
“Yes, it should still be open, but Maya, can I speak with you for a second?” Jill gives me a soft smile before Maya waves me off to go ahead, and she’ll catch up shortly.
I bypass the stupid crowd of adoring fans that are hovering over Noah somewhere by the lounge, give a quick wave to his teammates, then help myself to making a small sandwich, taking the closest seat to the doors.
By the time I finish, Maya arrives, crestfallen, and slumps in the chair.
I barely have time to swallow and ask what’s up when she blurts out the worst news imaginable. “He’s out.”
I almost choke on a bite of ham and cheese. “Excuse me, what?”
“Noah. Is. Out. Apparently, the injury was too much, and he’s out until further notice.”
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Ironically, it’s the same set of injuries I got before my competition back in high school, yet I had no problem competing.
The son of a bitch is definitely milking the attention.
“My dad spoke to Coach Jones, but he won’t budge, not even his teammates can talk him back into it.”
The sandwich doesn’t settle right, my stomach swirling with anxiety. This can’t be happening, not now, not after everything Maya and her family have done to get this far, and now have it completely squashed by some arrogant piece of shit.
I’m already up and walking across the dining room, Maya on my heels, my half-eaten sandwich left behind.
“What are you doing?” she asks, trying to keep up with me.
“I’m going to remind Noah why the world doesn’t revolve around him.”