Page 77 of Lose You Twice

The clerk looks like she might cry. “I’m very sorry.”

I already know before she says the next part.

“The adjoining room is one of your team rooms.”

Coach looks down at the rooming list.

Then at me.

Grayson, standing beside me, mutters, “Oh, hell.”

My pulse pounds once, hard.

Of course it would be the one connected to my room.

Wren finally looks at me, her face unreadable. Mine probably isn’t much better.

Wren shrugs. “I can sleep on a couch if I need to.”

“Not all the rooms have a couch,” the clerk says, then immediately looks like she regrets speaking.

Weston whispers, “Read the room, ma’am.”

Asher elbows him. Coach turns his glare on the whole team. “Everyone else, grab your keys and head to your rooms. Now.”

For once, no one argues.

Donnelly pulls the clerk aside. Coach talks low with the assistant coach. Grayson stands next to me, silent. Wren stays where she is, backpack strap clenched in her hand.

I want to say something, but I’ve got no idea what.

Sorry?

We’ll figure it out?

You can sleep with me? Oh yeah, because that one would make it so much better, idiot. Then again, if Weston so much as offers the couch in his room, I’ll probably stab him with my toothbrush.

Wren is still standing there, looking a lot more defeated than she did a few minutes ago when Coach finally turns back to us. “We’re only here for a night, so we’ll make it work. Calloway takes the king room. Mercer and Bennett keep the adjoining room. Clear?”

Grayson nods. “Clear.”

I nod, too, even though nothing about me feels clear.

Wren looks at Coach. “I can switch with someone else.”

“No,” Coach says. “You’re staff. I’m not putting you with players or sending you across the hotel. This is the safest option until they fix the lock.”

Safe. That word almost makes me laugh.

Nothing about Wren Calloway sleeping on the other side of an adjoining door from me feels safe.

But Coach is right in every way that matters.

Wren nods. “Okay.”

The clerk hands over the keys. Coach gives us a look that could cut glass.

“If I hear one rumor, one joke, one whisper about this,” he says, voice low enough that only our group hears, “the entire team will bag skate until graduation.”