Page 22 of Rumor Has It

“I already told Sinclair. We’re good,” Wren said as she nodded towards the door.

Becky followed her without protest. Wren grabbed her gently at the elbow to help steady her as they ducked out a side exit that Becky hadn’t even noticed. “Do you know where we’re going?” Becky asked, still stumbling a bit in her heels as she followed Wren down the street.

Wren redirected her a bit on the sidewalk with another quick catch of her elbow. Only Wren didn’t let go this time. Instead, like a true gentlewoman, she looped her arm through Becky’s to help keep her upright and correctly on the sidewalk. Becky couldn’t help but notice that Wren had positioned herself between Becky and the street. That was something Becky had grown up hearing her father drill into all of her brothers. It was protective and chivalrous, and the fact that Wren had done it for her made her feel a little fuzzy.

“I do know where we’re going. But you can check me with your preferred maps app if you’d like,” Wren replied with a playful grin.

They had hit a corner so they paused, waiting for the walk sign to change for them and for the traffic to come to a stop. Becky laughed sarcastically at her, but their joking was cut short by the flash of a camera. Apparently, the Women’s National Team at a club after a win was enough to attract some media coverage. Becky tensed immediately. The whole world was going to know she was plastered just a few hours after their game and had to be walked back to their hotel room. This was the embarrassing type of thing she had never wanted to do.

“How drunk do I look?” She whispered, her hazel eyes shooting to Wren’s.

Wren laughed, and tightened her squeeze on Becky’s arm. “You look fine. Promise.”

“They’re still taking photos.”

Wren nodded.

“They’re going to see my drunk ass stumble down this street.” Becky’s voice was panicked.

Wren winked at her. “No they won’t. We’re only two blocks away. You’re gonna hold your head high and march down this street with confidence.” She smiled warmly and leaned in to whisper conspiratorially in Becky’s ear, “and I’m going to continue to death grip your elbow so you can’t fall.”

“Walk sign is on. Walk sign is on,” the crosswalk chimed at them.

“Come on. We got this,” Wren said, nodding back towards the hotel, completely ignoring the flashes of the camera going off around them.

Becky followed her lead, leaning a bit on Wren for support, letting their shoulders press against each other as they walked. Wren was firm and steady as they walked away from the cameras. When they made it safely into their hotel building and down the hall from the entrance, Becky relaxed, letting her shoulders slump. “I owe you one. Like massively. Thank you for not letting me embarrass myself. In front of the team and then in front of the cameras.”

Wren shrugged. “It’s fine. Anytime, really. Clubs honestly have never been my thing. I like house parties and beer games, not EDM and sweating on people.”

Becky turned to face her, her little black heels gave her an extra couple of inches of height over Wren. Wren had let go of her arm, but Becky grabbed both her hands. “Seriously, my parents, they’re kind of intense.” She rolled her eyes. “They’ve given me enough shit about not going to med school. The last thing I need is to embarrass them. I can’t even imagine the lecture.” A flash from outside the window caught both of their attentions.

“Fucking hell. I hate these people.” Wren let go of one of Becky’s hands to flick off the camera crew and used the other to tug her into the elevator when the doors finally opened.

Wren let go of Becky’s hand when they were safely out of view and pushed the seventh floor button. Becky stared down at her hand. The alcohol was still coursing through her, but she couldn’t help but miss how Wren’s hands felt in her own and how safe she felt when Wren was in protective mode.

CHAPTER

NINE

WREN

Wren woke up the next morning to her alarm clock blaring. She had actually gotten a really solid night of sleep. She frowned when she realized her phone was ringing, alarms weren’t going off. She hadn’t needed to set any, and she thought the sound of them might wake Rebecca up with a killer, hangover-induced headache. Her phone screen informed her that it was eight in the morning and Barbara was calling her. Wren slid off the bed quickly, thumbing the answer button as she did. She grabbed her room key, slipped on her sweatpants and slides, and padded out into the hallway of the hotel, shutting the door as quietly as possible behind her.

“What’s up, Barbs.”

“What’s up?” Barbara was full of energy for seven o’clock in the morning her time. Especially for a Sunday. “What’s up is that you scored your first goal with the Women’s National Team yesterday!”

Wren let out a laugh and found a little hallway bench to sit down on. “I did, yeah.”

“Your dad was up until like one in the morning calling everyone he knows.”

Wren laughed at that. She could picture the scene perfectly and the thought made her heart swell.

“When are you coming here? I want to celebrate with you so bad.” Barbara was practically shrieking into the phone.

“Uh, I don’t have any set plans on that front, but how about I talk to your mom and pops and see when works best for them. You wanna text me your test schedule so I don’t get in the way of you and straight A’s?”

“Yes! I’ll text you right now.”