I read it back and deleteoffer still stands, which sounds like a transaction. I change it tostill good if you want to come, then delete that too. I go back to the original version and hit send before I can talk myself out of it again. Then I put the phone face down on my thigh and look out the window.
Roman is in the seat across from me with his headphoneson, eyes closed. Half the guys are already checked out, mentally walking through their warm-up routines. We’ve had a great week, much better than last week. I’m hoping I got it out of my system by punching Patrick fucking Martin in the fucking face.
No more thinking about that asswipe, I tell myself. He doesn’t belong in my headspace.
My phone buzzes.
I actually hold it for a second without flipping it over. Preparing myself for the polite exit.Oh, I totally forgot I have a thing, maybe next time.Something like that.
I flip it over.
Lola
I’ll be there.
I read it again. I can’t believe she’s coming.
My lips tip up slightly when I type back.
There will be a ticket saved at will call for Trouble Donavan
Lola
We agree on a place to meet in the arena after the game, and then I try but fail to put her out of my mind.
I play one of the best games I’ve played in a long time, for sure the best game of this season. Maybe my luck is changing. Maybe it was because Lola was in the crowd. Nope—not going down that rabbit hole.
I see Lola before she sees me. She’s standing near the endof the corridor outside the family and guest entrance, a few steps back from the small cluster of people, her coat dark against the cement wall. I try to figure out what seems different about her now and realize it’s the way she holds herself. She used to walk into a room and own it, in her own quiet yet bold way. Now, she’s maybe even more painfully beautiful, but it’s almost as if she’s apologetic for taking up space.
What happened to her?runs through my mind yet again.
She turns and sees me, and her mouth curves up in a nervous smile.
“Hey,” she says.
“Hey.” I cross the space between us, and we do that brief, uncertain moment of figuring out if we’re going to hug or not. I finally hold my arms out and she walks into them, and we both take a deep inhale. She smells clean and sweet, like citrus and cinnamon.
“Great game—” she starts.
“Tully,” someone cuts in.
I reluctantly let Lola go, and Daniel appears at my elbow. His phone is in one hand, and his other hand curls around my shoulder.
“Way to show them how it’s done,” he says.
He stops and looks at Lola, and there’s a beat where they just stare at each other before Daniel extends his hand.
“Lola. It’s been a while.”
“Daniel,” she says.
She looks pale all of a sudden. There’s an awkward moment when she doesn’t take his hand right away, but eventually, she does. For a second, I think she’s shaking, but she pulls her hand back so fast, I can’t tell for sure.
“So you live in New York, huh?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Didn’t realize you and Tully were still in touch,” he adds.
