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We stare at each other, and something new arches between us—I don’t know if I like it. “Are you really that pissed at me?”
She looks down at the floor, breaking eye contact, and my chest tightens, my gaze locked on her with an almost desperate desire for her to look at me again.
“Laney.”
She shakes her head and looks back up, but her expression is guarded. “Dom…I don’t…We…Our priorities are too different these days, and I think we’ve grown too far apart for our friendship to continue.”
For how choppy she started, the tail end of her sentence escapes her mouth like a priest just exorcised a demon from her. She stares at me, her eyes a little wide, but I doubt they’re as wide as mine.
“You…” I have to clear my throat while my brain scrambles to make sense of what she just said. “You think we shouldn’t be friends anymore?” Something akin to panic surges wildly inside my chest. “No,” I say, standing up because I can’t sit with all this energy suddenly pulsing through my body.
Her lips tilt down in a frown. “What the hell do you mean ‘no’?”
I shake my head, then scrub a hand over my short, black hair. “No. We’ve been friends too long for you to just throw me away like I don’t mean anything.”
“Dom—”
“No,” I say again, knowing I sound like a broken record, but I have to stop this, no matter what. I can’t lose her. “Yell at me, tell me how disappointed you are in me, anything but ending the most important relationship in my life.”
“Is that even true anymore?”
I stop my frantic pacing and stare at her, my heart thundering in my chest as pain ricochets around my ribs. Have I really fucked up that badly that she questions what she means to me? The bad publicity, the risk of losing my spot on the Wolves, none of it hits me as hard as that one question coming out of her mouth.
I clench my jaw and fight the urge to walk up to her and pull her into my arms to hold her tight like I desperately need to. But the look in her eyes and stiffness of her body tell me that kind of physical touch wouldn’t be accepted right now. So, I dig deep and try to find the words that can offer some kind of reparation for the damage I’ve caused.
The doubt my actions have planted in her mind.
“Laney, you’re the single most important person in my life.” I take a step closer because I can’t stop myself. “I love you—”
She flinches as if I’ve just struck her, and my gut clenches. We’ve said “I love you” or “love you” before, but she’s never had such a visceral negative reaction, and it makes any other words I’d prepared halt.
I’m missing something.
“Laney?”
“I can’t do this with you right now, Dom. I need some space, okay? Can you respect that?”
I’m only a few feet away from her, but it feels like we’re miles apart, and that sick feeling in my stomach grows.
“Don’t you have a game today?” she asks, and when I nod, she says, “You should probably go then, so you’re not late. I’m sure the coaches are watching your every move right now.”
They are, but for the first time in as long as I can remember, football doesn’t feel like the priority.
She is.
But I can tell she means it when she says she wants space, and I’m not about to force myself on her. I know her well enough to know if her mind’s set on space, she won’t hear anything I have to say. My only fear is leaving her with her thoughts because for the first time, I’m not certain I can fix this. She’s never said she thought we shouldn’t be friends before.
“We’re not done,” I say, my voice stronger than I feel. “I’ll call you after my game, okay?”
She looks at me, her eyes drooping at the edges and holding a sadness I haven’t seen before. “Not tonight. Space, remember?”
I grind my molars together again and then mumble, “Fine.”
She offers me a weak smile, then opens the door, and with reluctant steps, I leave.
I shove my fingers over my hair and then lean my elbows on my knees, my hands dangling between my legs as I try to get my head together. This is a critical game—it determines whether we’re going to the NFC Championship or not—and I can’t do a fucking thing right. Tyler Russell, a free safety and one of the core members of the Fierce Four, eyes me and gives me a sympathetic smile. He’s the only one I’ve told about Laney so far, even though I know I’ll tell Gabe and Romel eventually. Gabe Romero and Romel Watson make up the other half of the Fierce Four. These guys are my brothers in all the ways that matter. They’ve had my back since we all joined the team, and there’s a reason we’ve become an unstoppable force in the league. I know I’m not carrying my weight the way I usually do, which only pisses me off more.
I’ve always been able to compartmentalize when it comes to football. Nothing else was ever more important.
