Page 84 of Hard to Fake

My phone buzzes and I curse. "Be right back.”

She nods, wrapping her arms around herself.

I turn away to look at the screen.

It’s Jay.

I don’t want to leave Brooke.

Still, Jay is my friend. My team captain. The person I owe my loyalty to.

I duck into the bathroom as a compromise so I don’t have to leave the room and pull the door closed.

“Yeah,” I answer under my breath.

“How are things going?”

I stare at the phone. Normally, I’m down for a surprise call from one of my teammates, but this isn’t the time.

“We’re pretty busy here.”

“Right. But you’d tell me if something was wrong.”

I glance at the closed door. “Of course I would.”

I’m conflicted.

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Stupid like what?”

There’s silence.

“Back when I first met you, we were all struggling to find our way.”

“We were kids,” I counter.

“And you’ve proven yourself. We’ve all had to in our own ways. But I guess what I’m saying is… we need you, man.”

The responsibility feels suffocating.

When I emerge, Brooke’s lying still on the bed facing the other way. I brush my teeth in the bathroom and change into cotton pajama pants.

"Brooke?" I ask when I return.

There's no answer.

I drop into a chair opposite the fireplace and stare sightlessly at my phone. A sound reaches my ears.

Shaky breathing.

I drop the phone on the coffee table, my hands fisting.

I promised I'd look out for her from a safe distance.

But listening to her quiet sobs is torture.

Fuck this.

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