Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
TY
“Hello?” I ask into the phone.
Coach Mack lets out a long sigh. “Brewster, there’s been something brought to my attention. I think it’s best if we handle it in person.”
My mouth goes dry. Why does he have to do this? It’s like a bad relationship. The ol’ “we need to talk” text. Except at least he has the decency to make a phone call. I suppose that’s the professional way to handle certain topics.
Certain topics.
“Yeah, sure. Text me the details, and I’ll be there.” I try to keep my voice steady as Coach rattles off what I need to know and then hangs up.
My stomach sinks as I consider all the options of what he could be summoning me to speak with him about.
My list of personal fouls and whether or not I’m getting fined or suspended for them.
Maybe my lack of relationship with most of the guys has finally reaped its revenge.
My heart hammers as I consider one more: Avery.
But surely there’s no way anyone knows about our arrangement.
About her living with me. Thinking about it now, it sounds so stupid.
Fantastical. Completely unreal. Of all the girls I could have let in, why did I have to get so attached to one who is completely off-limits?
A strange calm falls over me. Because of course it’s Avery.
Even with all of her unpredictability, she brings me a peace I haven’t found anywhere else.
She’s lively and fun. Never in my life did I expect to be drawn to someone who talks to plants or cradles her cat like he’s her firstborn.
If any girl came at me with even half of her quirks, I’d run as fast as I could.
And far. But with Avery, I don’t know if I can ever be close enough.
With her, nothing feels like enough. Close enough.
Long enough. She danced into my life, and now I never want to imagine a future without her.
I stop in my tracks, the realization ramming into me harder than a tight end who’s been waiting all game for payback.
I’m in love with Avery Hinkley.
What I’m going to do with that information, I haven’t decided.
Something in me says to bottle it. Keep my lips locked tighter than my coverage on a running back.
If there’s one thing I know, it’s that my instincts are pretty off when it comes to functional communication.
Every relationship in my life has only disintegrated over time. Until Avery.
Confessing to Avery that I love her could yield two results.
The first one, she could deny me. Toss me aside and move on with her life.
Laugh in my face and tell me I misread every little detail of our time together.
Or worse… she could return the sentiment.
She could tell me she loves me. The thought elicits both bliss and anguish.
To tell Avery I love her and to have her reciprocate would mean derailing her life and everything she’s fought to achieve.
And I can’t do that to her.
A dull pang starts in my chest. I won’t give her the opportunity to even think about ditching her accomplishments for me.
It doesn’t matter what I want. The only thing that matters is what’s best for Avery.
I’ve spent months pretending that her living with me was a good thing, and I guess it was.
Living in a house beats the backseat of a car, but it compromised the promise she made to the Kings.
And I put her in that position. I’m done.
Maybe that’s why I push to my feet, trudge across my thick rug, and lock my door. Maybe that’s why I ignore Dollyboy and the shuffling in the hall until there’s nothing but aching silence ringing through my ears. Because if I do anything worth remembering in my life, it won’t be ruining Avery’s.