Page 42 of Unforgettable Player

I jump in my car and head home. I want to see Elliot so badly, it hurts. I know I can’t just walk in the door and kiss him, but for some reason, I just need to see him. Need to be around him.

My spirits lift a little when I spot Scout’s VW parked across the driveway. I rush up to the house with my gym bag over my shoulder and let myself in with shaking hands.

But when I call through the house for Mom and Dad, no one replies. It isn’t until I head into the kitchen that I see Scout by the pool. I scan the area for Elliot. Sure, it’ll be hard to see him without a shirt on and keep my eyes from popping out of my head, but I can do it if I have to.

I step out onto the patio for a better look. My heart sinks when I don’t spot him.

“Hey, where’s Eli?”

Scout sweeps her wet hair off her face. “He’s at his dad’s house.”

Fuck. Is he staying away because of me?

She frowns. “Why?”

“What?” My voice comes out a bit higher than I’d wanted.

“Why do you want to know where Eli is?”

Because I need to see him. Because I can’t stand the thought of pushing him out of his safe space.

I shake my head and shrug. “No reason.”

ELLIOT

After I throw out the expired food from the fridge and raid the cupboards, I’m left with a square of hard cheese, half a tub of margarine, a couple of cans of chicken soup, and some condensed milk.

I need to go to the store, but it’s too far to walk and carry all the stuff I need home. I haven’t had a car since mine broke down last year, and I didn’t want to hassle my dad to get it fixed or ask for money for a new one. I ended up scrapping it and spending the little money I got for it on books.

Having Scout drive me everywhere and living on campus so close to local amenities means I don’t usually need my own car. Now I really wish I’d put that money toward some new wheels.

I take my phone out to text Scout. If I ask, she’ll bring me groceries. She’ll want to come in, too, but maybe she’ll be able to coax my dad out of his study again to eat.

There’s a text waiting, but it isn’t from Scout. The second I see Connor’s name, my heart starts pounding in my ears.

Hey, you okay? Do you need anything?

It’s like he read my mind. I’m about to reply, Yes, please, but I hesitate. I should stay away from him. I could just text Scout and ask her to bring groceries.

He texts again.

I’m in the area, sure you don’t need anything? Want me to bring you some food?

I look around at the sparse kitchen. Scout would stomp in and make my dad eat, but that’s not really what I need right now—Scout reminding me that nothing I do makes any difference to my dad. I reply to Connor’s text before I can overthink it.

I’ll take a ride to the grocery store if that’s okay?

On my way

I slink back against the counter. Those three simple words remind me that Connor Ryan has my back. Calm washes over me while I wait for him to arrive.

There’s a text ten minutes later, saying:

Outside

I rush out of the house to meet him, before he can knock on the door, and find his shiny Volvo parked at the end of the driveway.

The smile he gives me is more uncertain than usual. It makes my stomach flip. So does the backward baseball cap he’s wearing and the tufts of dark hair sticking out under it. Scrap that—everything about him makes my stomach flip. His bare forearms in a white t-shirt sporting the logo of Coach Garvin’s rink across the chest. His hands on the steering wheel and the sliver of bare thigh he’s showing in his shorts.