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Harlow, how do you manage to get yourself into these situations?Someday, when I have the time, I’m going to sit down and come up with an answer to that question. Right now, all I can do is pace fretfully and wait for Ash to join me in my office. He’s the one I want to speak to first. He’s the one who wasn’t completely honest with me when he came to visit. If I can find out why he and Soren fought, I might start to put the puzzle together. After all, he’s sort of the common denominator here. A fight with Soren, a fight with Ryder.
The knock on my door might as well be the explosion of a bomb. That’s how my heart leaps, that’s how it makes me jump. I hurry to the door and throw it open to find him standing in front of me with an ice pack over his eye and a surly expression twisting his handsome face into a mask of bitterness.
“Get in here,” I whisper, stepping aside so he can enter. I barely have the door closed before I practically jump on him. “What the hell was that all about? What are you thinking? Are you trying to get kicked off the team?”
“Since when do we get kicked off the team for a stupid fight?”
“That was more than just a stupid fight, and you know it. It looked like you wanted to take each other’s heads off out there.”
“Maybe we did.”
“But why? Why would you do that?”
He flops down on the sofa and groans. “I don’t know.”
“Bullshit. You’re not being honest with me, and that’s the one thing I need from you more than anything right now. Honesty. This is your job we’re talking about, and mine. Not to mention theirs. What was the fight all about?”
He heaves a heavy sigh and lowers the ice so I can wince at the sight of the cut just above his eyebrow. “It looks worse than it is,” he assures me, though I can’t imagine how that’s possible. There are two butterfly bandages holding it closed, and already an ugly bruise has formed.
“What is happening?” I ask in a softer voice. “Talk to me.”
“I’m just… I don’t know. Pissy, I guess.”
“But over what? Listen, I know you were having a hard time in Seattle, but you’re home now.”
“Yeah. Home, sweet home.” He looks me up and down and smirks. “Are you asking me all of this as the team’s therapist, or as Harlow?”
“Right now, both. You know I care about you, obviously,” I whisper. I hate that I have to whisper, hate that I’m always worried someone will overhear. His narrowed eyes tell me he feels the same way. “But I also care about the player in front of me. Either way, I’m concerned. I’m concerned for you.”
“Yeah, and you don’t need me being an antagonistic asshole.” I might not have used those exact words, but now that he has, it sounds about right.
“So tell me. You know you can trust me. I’m here to listen and to help if I can.”
“I don’t know what to tell you. I really don’t.”
Finally, I sit on the other side of the sofa. “Does it have anything to do with the fight you got into with Soren up in Seattle? I know that’s who gave you that bruise. Why didn’t you tell me the truth when you were here?”
His gaze darts away, reminding me of a guilty little boy. “I didn’t want you to freak out.”
“You knew I’d find out eventually, right?”
“I just wanted that day to be about us. Was that so wrong?”
“No, it wasn’t. I understand. But do you understand I’m more worried than ever now? I don’t want to see anything come between you guys as teammates or as friends. And I can’t help but worry…”
Our eyes meet, and the understanding I find in his tells me I don’t have to voice my worries. He understands. “Don’t do that to yourself.”
“How can I not? Come on. It doesn’t take a genius. Was it… about me?” God, this feels so dumb, not to mention egotistical.
“Which fight are you talking about? The one from today, or the one back in Seattle?”
“You’re not making me feel much better, you know.”
“Sorry. It’s… complicated.”
“Nope, that didn’t help, either.”
At least he cracks a smile. “My head’s a mess. Maybe Seattle wasn’t as great as I was hoping it would be. Maybe I have a lot to think about. And maybe that’s getting in the way of my gameplay and the way I act around everybody else.” His lips twitch in a smirk. “See? You’ve got me thinking about my motivation now. Are you proud of me?”
