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I push off the pole and Hailey nearly comes undone, sagging in her relief and I feel even worse. She’s making me lose my sanity.
It seems Hailey isn’t the only one who knows how to ruin something good…
I pick up the forgotten basketball and toss it to her. “Here. Have at it. I’m done.”
The thud of the ball as she catches it to her stomach as hollow as I am when I step out of my prison, not feeling free at all.
thirty-eight
Hailey
CHAPTERTHIRTY-EIGHT
Hailey
“Thank you,” I say, swooping in and thanking the person behind the booth putting the extra ticket in my pocket.
Finn spins on his heel. “What are you doing here?”
I choke back my hesitancy; this was my idea. So what if I had to beg Rory to agree to help execute it? It’s the only way he would’ve come.
Finn looks over my shoulder for the person he won’t find. “What’s going on? Where’s Lil Sis?”
Helplessly I am forced to watch as the pieces slowly click themselves into place. Confusion morphs itself into irritation and then, finally, anger.
Finn’s chin sharply drops. “I was tricked.” His jaw works side to side, grating while his molars grind to dust.
“I didn’t think you’d come if you knew…” I say sheepishly.
I wanted to, I don’t know, make up for the other day and how things ended between us on the court. It turns out it hurts more when you’re the one being walked away from.
My hope was to appease the gap some and get us back to before. Celebrate? The news about his coach and a potential agent is a huge leap for his career.
When I concocted the idea to come here, it’d made sense at the time. Neutral territory to smooth everything out.
Finn’s a lover of food almost as much as I am, but standing here, face to face with him brooding mad and squared shoulders, I’m wondering if I overstepped.
“What’s going on?” he spits, upset.
I gulp down the torment and hurt brimming underneath his lashes. Okay, so this isn’t going to be as easy as I hoped. Noted.
His glare is like shards of ice stabbing at my stomach. They do nothing to cool down the light-headedness overcoming my vision.
He’s mad, mad.
“Stay,” I concede, winded as I chase down his retreating form.
I reach for his arm, and he shrugs me off.
“Don’t leave.”
“Why not?” he refutes basically to the parking lot.
My spine stiffens with the straightness of a line. His feet have no other choice but to stop as I block access to his car.
I put my hands out but drop them in the same breath I swear I see leave his nostrils.
“It’ll be fun.”
