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“How do you know all this?”
“Because he’s here. He needs surgery.”
“Good. I hope that fucker remembers me every time he drinks his meals from a straw.”
Bex climbs into bed with me, and I make room for her. “There’s more.” Her voice is shaky, her body trembling. “Right before Dr. Clarke came out to find me, Kellan’s teammates started a fight with yours. They were all out in the waiting room shit talking back and forth when the doctor told Kellan’s coach about his injuries. The nurse had to call security to break up the fight. I think a few people are hurt. I’m not sure who, though. I snuck through the door with Dr. Clarke to get out of the way.”
“Fuck. This is a real shit show, huh?” I shake my head, blowing out a frustrated breath of air. “I didn’t just fuck up my career, I messed shit up for the whole team. Some captain I am.” I hang my head in shame, now regretting my decision.
It’s one thing for me to suffer in silence. But it’s another for the team to get roped into my mess.
Bex runs her fingers down my arm, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. She stares into my eyes. Hers are watery, with so much sadness in them. “You can’t take the blame for other people’s actions, Preston. You didn’t make them do a thing.”
“Our teams wouldn’t be out in the waiting room, beating the shit out of each other, if it weren’t for me. This could have serious implications for the team.”
“I saw the whole thing. From where I was sitting, it looked like Kellan was egging you on, so you would hit him back.”
“He was,” I growl. “The shit he was saying about you made my blood boil. I couldn’t stand hearing him talk about you like that. Like you were trash. Like you were his. It made me sick.”
“You didn’t start the fight, though. He did. Anyone could see he punched you in the back after you guys scored. The game was over. He was always a sore loser.”
“I hope the league sees it that way.”
“Me, too. My dad is afraid they will suspend you for the remainder of the year.”
“It’s possible.”
“But he started it. Doesn’t that count for something?”
“Not necessarily. He’s having surgery because of me. The NCAA will take his injuries into consideration.”
“My dad said Kellan will probably get the same penalty as you. He’s not sure. He has to make a few calls.”
“Speaking of calls, would you mind talking to my dad for me. Let him know I’m here. I can’t bear to have a conversation with him right now. He’s going to be so pissed.”
“My dad already talked to him.”
“What did he say?”
“He wasn’t happy.”
“What am I gonna do, Bex?” I rest my head on her shoulder, taking in her sweet feminine scent. “I am so fucked.”
“No, you’re not. We will get through this together.”
“Easy for you to say,” I growl, and something snaps inside me. “Tonight’s game might’ve been the last I ever play.”
“Don’t overreact.” She raises her voice to match my dark tone.
“How do you expect me to act? I feel like someone is holding me underwater, like I’m drowning and have no way of swimming back to the surface.”
“I’m here, Preston. Whatever you need.”
“You weren’t supposed to be here tonight. If you weren’t at the game, Lehane wouldn’t have seen us together. I wouldn’t have gotten into the fight. None of this shit would have happened.” I close my eyes, disgusted with myself for being a dick. “Can you just go?”
She looks like she might cry. “Are you serious?”
I nod. “I need to be alone. I have to think things through.”
Her cheeks flush. “Please don’t hate me for this. I love you.”
I don’t know why, but I can’t say it back. Everything hurts. My hand. My heart. I want it all to stop. I wish I could take it all back.
As I roll onto my side, Bex hops down from the bed. She leaves without another word, and I close my eyes, wishing I would have taken the pain meds the doctor offered. Because I want to be numb.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Bex
An entire week has passed since I left Boston. Seven long days without a word from Preston. He hates me. Preston blames me for everything. And he should. Because the fight was my fault.
My dad is pissed about Preston’s suspension. He won’t say it aloud, but he knows I’m to blame. If I could turn back time, I would. I would have stayed the hell home like I was supposed to.
I knock on Preston’s front door and Jamie opens it.
He forces a smile, but it’s obvious he’s not happy to see me. “Preston is sleeping.”
It’s a lie. I can read it on his lips, see it in his eyes. Every time I’ve come to see Preston, he’s sleeping. Right.
