Page 26 of Her Power Play

I’m not doing the most at all. In fact, I’m pretty sure this is the absolute least compared to the rest of these girls. I’m never going to be them. I’ll never dress like they do—I’ll never be as thin and pretty as they are. What am I even doing here?

A million doubts fill my mind. Only one of them screams at me: I do not belong here. I will never belong here. I am not these girls, and I never will be. I can’t compete with them, and Liam is going to see that.

He’s going to realize it, and then he’s going to walk away.

I’m just going to take care of that before it can play out. I know that I’m freaking out over something that hasn’t even happened, but I don’t think I’ll be able to live with the unknown, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’m anticipating the eventual breakup because I know that’s exactly how this will end.

So I’m going to be the one to walk away before anyone gets really hurt—selfishly, me.

Except I don’t walk.

I pretty much run.

TWENTY-NINE

LIAM

I’m beat, and we got beat.

Lifting my arm, I press my forehead against it as I try to gather myself. I cannot believe that we lost this game. The first game where Ruby was in the stands, and I fucked it all up. I cannot believe I let those fucks score against me twice. It was my fault we lost.

“Fich,” a voice booms.

I know who it is without even looking. Lifting my head, I look over to see Coach standing a few feet away. His feet are planted wide, his arms crossed over his chest, and his chin is dipped as he looks disapprovingly down his nose in my direction.

Pushing off the wall, I turn and make my way over to him. I can tell he’s holding in his anger, but only barely. I’m surprised he didn’t pull me from the game altogether. As soon as I’m close enough that he doesn’t have to shout, I stop and wait for my verbal beating.

Lifting my hand, I run my fingers through my longish strands, tugging on them slightly before I clear my throat. I start to ask him what he needs, but then he begins to speak.

“You screwed the pooch tonight,” he states.

No fucking shit.

I know I screwed the fuck up. I know I can’t go back and fix it either. But that doesn’t mean I want to talk about it. Unfortunately, I have a feeling that’s exactly what is going to happen. Not just right now either—when we go over the game as a team, there will be even more discussions about how royally I fucked up.

“Yeah,” I murmur when he doesn’t continue.

Clearly, he wants me to say something, but right now that’s all I have in me to blurt out. Pressing my lips together in a straight line, I wait for my verbal lashing so that I can gather Ruby and go home. Maybe a good orgasm will make me feel better, though I doubt it. I’m not sure anything will make me feel better about tonight.

“Whatever it is, move past it, through it, get over it, whatever the fuck you need to do to get your head clear and back in the game for tomorrow. You’re better than what I saw tonight, son.”

Dipping my chin in a single nod, I take one step backward and then another before I lift my gaze to meet his. “I won’t disappoint you again, Coach.”

“Better not,” he grunts.

Turning around, I walk over to my locker, grab my shit, then make my way out to the back of the arena. I know that Ruby is waiting for me there. She texted and said that’s where she would be.

When I step out into the hot air, my gaze scans the lingering fans. I look for her, my cupcake girl, but she’s nowhere to be found. Taking my phone out of my pocket, I look down at my notifications, expecting to see something from her, but there’s nothing.

“Fichtner,” someone cries out.

Lifting my head, my eyes scan again, but it’s not Ruby. Another girl jumps up and down, waving her arms around, but I can’t even be bothered to wave at her. She’s not who I want to see right now.

Ignoring all the women, the screaming, the signs, the offers… I head straight for my pickup truck. I don’t just walk through. I jog, because I have a feeling something happened and my girl ran away.

“Hey, Fich,” a voice shouts, one that I actually recognize, which is the only reason I stop. Turning my head, I look over to see Logan jogging toward me.

“You missing someone?” he asks.