Page 92 of The Trouble with Players

“I’ll come back,” he assured me.

Sam had me home within minutes, and thankfully my attack subsided, leaving me with a dull ache in my chest and a splitting headache. And, though I argued, Sam walked me to my front door.

“Thanks for everything,” I said before hugging him.

“You make it easy.”

“Said no person ever,” I said as I stepped out of the hug.

“Do you want me to help you get inside?” he asked.

“I’m fine.” I opened the door and stepped inside, turning back to him. “Don’t even think about forgetting me once you’re rich and famous.”

He smiled. “How could I ever?”

I smiled and closed the door, grateful to have met people like Sam this summer. I guess not all ball players were trouble.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

I walked upstairs, knowing I needed to sleep off the effects of the panic attack. I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and pulled my hair into a messy bun. I slipped on my pajamas and climbed into bed. Between the attack and my emotions being so out of whack, as soon as I closed my eyes, I felt myself drifting off.

There was a soft knock on my bedroom door.

I opened my eyes, but my room was still dark. I couldn’t be sure if I’d dreamt the sound or if it was just my imagination running wild. I closed my eyes, trying to fall back asleep, but there was another knock.

My eyes popped open. I knew I locked my bedroom door, but I was home alone. No one should’ve been knocking on my bedroom door. I grabbed my phone and dialed nine-one-one but didn’t hit send. I slipped out from under my covers and moved to my chair, grabbing the bottle of pepper spray that I kept for an emergency in my handbag. I held my finger on the nozzle of the pepper spray, switched on my bedroom light, then cracked open the door.

I inhaled sharply.

Crew stood there with his hands in his pockets.

I lowered the pepper spray and opened the door the rest of the way. “What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to see if you were okay,” he said.

“I’m good,” I lied.

He eyed the pepper spray in my hand. “Did I scare you?”

“Of course you scared me. I’m home alone and someone’s knocking on my bedroom door.”

“Sorry.”

I huffed. “It’s fine.” I stepped aside so he could come in.

“You sure?” he asked.

“Who the hell knows anymore,” I said as he moved past me into my room and I closed the door.

His body felt so much bigger in my room now that we were alone…and not together anymore. His eyes swept around, taking in my unmade bed. “Did I wake you?”

“Not really,” I said, turning off my phone and tucking the pepper spray back into my handbag.

He leaned against my dresser with his hands in his pockets. “I’m glad you came to the game.”

“Yeah?” I asked as I sat down on the edge of my bed.

He nodded, and the awkwardness in the room was enough to drive a sane person crazy.

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