“Can I workout now? Or is there any other high school drama that needs to be addressed?”
Bastian’s face fell. “No, that was it.”
Grant instantly felt bad for snapping at him. As Bastian had said earlier,hewasn’t the bad guy. Finn was the one ruining everyone’s lives with his overprotectiveness of Em. Grant was so tired of the senselessness of it all.
So much so, that he might have ended things with Em if they weren’t already over.
Liar.
“Good. Because I’ve gotta get back to my workout.”
“Right.” Bastian nodded. “We’re all looking forward to you coming back.”
Grant didn’t say anything before he turned and walked back to the weight room where he spent the next hour trying—and failing—not to think about Em.
Later that day,after Grant had gotten home and showered, he spent some time looking at master’s programs.
His injury had given him a lot to think about. He would be able to play again soon, just as Bastian had said, but Grant had to start thinking seriously about what his exit strategy was. He wouldn’t be able to play forever—eventually he’d get too old, too slow. Or even worse, there was always the possibility of another injury, one that put him out permanently.
Grant needed to know that he’d be able to get a nine-to-five when that happened.
Since he wasn’t ready to put on a suit and tie just yet, he figured furthering his education in the meantime was a good place to put his energy. Now that Em was out of the picture, he could focus on soccer, build his online brand, and go to school.
With so much on his plate, he wouldn’t have time to think about how he’d missed out on something special with Em.
As he researched different schools, he came across USF. Only an hour from Waterfront, the university boasted several flexible schedules to get your master’s. He could do a combination of summer classes and online classes that fit around soccer season.
If he went to school there, he could stay in Florida.
Why are you doing this to yourself?
It was a stupid thing to do, but applying didn’t mean that he was committed to going there. And going there didn’t mean that he had to stay in Waterfront. He could always move to Tampa. But even if hedidstay in town, that didn’t mean he was trying to find a way to make things happen with Em.
Or was he?
The pain of calling things off with her was too fresh in his mind for him to think clearly. He knew that. Which was why after he finished his expedited application for the school, he applied for three more—all in the Midwest, all close to home.
Though Kansas City was feeling less and less like home the more time he spent in Florida.
Emmeline
“You can’t ignore me forever,”Frida said, storming into Em’s empty classroom after school on Wednesday.
After using two personal days earlier in the week, Em was back at school—and completely behind. The sub that had filled in for her hadn’t used any of the lesson plans she’d left. Now she was playing catch up and really didn’t have the energy to deal with Frida. She knew she should have taken everything home to avoid this exact moment. Or maybe she subconsciously knew that they needed to talk, and that was why she had stayed.
“I wasn’t ignoring you.” Em’s eyes were trained on a stack of papers she needed to grade.
“Really?” Frida pulled one of the student’s chairs over to Em’s desk and sat down. “Because I’ve called and texted with no response. I even showed up at your apartment and knocked on the door for thirty minutes with no answer before finally leaving.”
Those had been some of the longest minutes of Em’s life. The entire time she’d been worried that one of her neighbors would call the cops. Thankfully, they hadn’t, and Frida had eventually left.
She shrugged. “I must not have been home.”
“Emmeline O’Brien, your car was in the parking lot.”
“Then I must have been taking a nap.” She played with the cap of her red pen.
Frida narrowed her eyes. “Since when do you take naps?”
