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Josh
I hate leaving Harper, especially when I know I won’t be back for a at least a week, but knowing she’ll be staying at my place causes that unease to level out just a little bit. I take out my phone and see a message from my girl, wishing me a safe flight. I text her back really quick just as Will plops himself down next to me, leaning over and making kissing noises like some kind of middle school idiot.
“Are you done?” I ask, putting my phone back in my pocket as my eyes scan the plane and when they land back on Will, he gives me a knowing smirk.
“He’s not coming.”
I try to act nonchalant, but we both know who I’m looking for.
“He got sent back down to the minors last night.”
The shit-eating grin grows even though I try and hide it.
“I figured that would make you happy.”
I peer toward the front of the plane only to see Coach’s eyes on me, when our gazes meet, he gives me a slight nod before going back to talking to his assistant.
“This road trip is gonna be the best we’ve had in weeks,” I mutter, loving the fact that I don’t have to worry about that fucker coming after me before and after each game, trying to stir up trouble.
“Yeah, sure,” Will mumbles as he sits back and takes out the magazine that’s in the pouch in front of him. “Can we just forget that turdwad and just enjoy the flight please?”
I roll my eyes just as my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out thinking it’s another text from Harper but when I see it’s an email and from an address I don’t recognize, I open it. Curiosity piquing.
The second I open the email I regret it.
Hi Josh,
I never wanted to send this email, but I thought you should know what your precious girlfriend is hiding from you. I have attached a few of the photos she received weeks ago, and although many people told her to tell you about them, she refused.
I just wanted you to know the kind of person you’re dating.
All the best,
Concerned fan.
I read the message about five times before I decide to open the attachment. Was it smart to open something from someone I don’t know? Probably not, but my curiosity got the best of me and the second after the pictures loaded, my heart sank to the floor beneath me.
“Fucking hell…” I murmur, flipping through photo after photo of Harper and me in my truck.
I’ve heard of scandals like this happening to other players, I’ve seen how they can ruin lives, destroy careers and change the course of someone’s life forever. The longer I stare, the less pissed I am that they exist. I’m not mad that someone took them—well that’s not entirely true—I am mad that someone followed us and took pictures of us, but the anger that’s bubbling up inside me? The rage that is starting to course through every vein inside my body is not directed at the person who took these photos, but at the person who lied right to my face.
“Holy shit!” Will yells when he catches sight of what I’m looking at. “Is that…?” he questions as I slowly nod my head. “Holy shit,” he mumbles before taking the phone out of my hands, minimizing the photos and reading the email. “Do you know who this is from?”
I shake my head, clearly my vocal cords are not working as I try and figure out what the hell is going on.
“You know you have to send these to Justin, right? Or at least tell him what’s going on.”
I say nothing for a few seconds as Will eyes me, waiting.
“I know!” I mutter under my breath. “I need to figure out what the fuck is going on first, then I’ll fill Justin in on what’s going on.” My hands are shaking as I take my phone back and pull up Harper’s number. My fingers hover over the keys as my brain tries to figure out what the hell I want to say, but everything that’s coming to mind is either mean or accusatory and honestly, I don’t want to be like that with her.
“Can everyone please be seated and fasten your seat belts? We are taking off in a few,” the flight attendant states over the intercom as I turn off my phone and place it back into my pocket, feeling its weight with every passing second.
“What are you going to do?” Will asks as the plane engines rumble and we start to taxi toward the runway.
“How the hell am I supposed to answer that? Apparently, someone has been stalking me and my girlfriend, sent the photos to her and she never told me. For weeks she’s been carrying around these photos, knowing they exist, and I’m here worried about my swing and how not to get benched when I should have been figuring this shit out with her.”
Will says jack shit as I sit there and stare out the window as the plane takes off.
