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.
