Page 85 of How We Loved

I raise my eyebrows, keeping my hand there. “Yeah. I’ll see you in a little while. You’re coming over, right?”

He finally slaps my palm, and then we curl our fingers around each other’s in our same handshake we’ve done for years. “Yeah, I’ll see you in a little while.”

I’m not sure what’s going on inside me right now, but when I walk past Maya, no part of me can walk out that door without touching her in some way, like I always do. So, I lean down and kiss the top of her head.

“See you,” I say, then walk out the door.

I head to my truck and climb in, starting it immediately. Normally, I wait for it to warm up a little since it’s ball-shrinking cold out here, but not today. Today, I just need to get out of here and drive to clear my head.

I put the truck in reverse and slide out of the parking lot. When I press the gas a little too hard, my tail end slips out a touch on the ice. I steer it to the left, then right, waiting for it to catch up, and when it does, I press the pedal even harder and drive to anywhere but here.

I cruise around for an hour, just blasting my music, trying to rid the emotions racing through me, but nothing seems to be helping, so I finally make the turn to head to my house.

Now, being home and in my thoughts is a thousand times worse, so I change my clothes and head to the gym to shoot some hoops. Not being able to be outside isn’t helping my mood, but it’s obvious the temperatures really dropped last night, so I know the park is a no-go.

Thankfully, when I get to the gym, no one is on the court, so I press play on my phone that hooks up to the JBL speaker in my bag, and I start to stretch and warm up, praying it stays that way.

I get lost in some drills Coach taught us last year and push myself harder than I ever have. Sweat drips off my forehead as I dodge and weave before jumping to shoot the ball.

I can barely breathe, and my muscles are starting to cramp when my phone rings, so I finally take a break and head to answer it.

“Bro, where are you?” Dalton asks when I swipe the call on.

“At the gym,” I respond breathlessly.

“You do realize it’s one, right? We’ve been at your house for a while now. Why aren’t you answering our text messages?”

I swipe up my phone to see I have fifteen missed messages, then realize I’ve been here for three hours. No wonder I’m starting to get tight.

Reaching in my bag for a towel, I wipe my face as I say, “Sorry. I had my music going. I’ll be right there.”

I pack up my shit, not feeling any better than when I got here, and head to my truck.

Once I’m home, I see everyone parked at my barn and send Dalton a text, saying I’m hopping in the shower, then I’ll be right there.

When I enter the house, my mom is in the kitchen, cooking. She looks at me in question.

“Where have you been? I thought you were down in the barn with your friends.” She wipes off her hands and walks toward me.

“I was at the gym, shooting hoops. Lost track of time.”

I try to walk away, but she stops me.

“Everything okay?”

I nod my head, not wanting to talk to her—or anybody really—right now. “Yeah. Just need to shower.”

She purses her lips in her knowing mom way, but gives me my space and lets me head upstairs to get ready.

I turn on the shower and instantly get in, letting the ice-cold water that’s spilling out wash over my body. Gritting out the shock of the coldness, I stand there, just trying to breathe through the sensations it’s causing me.

All of it is nothing compared to what’s happening inside me.

If only I could sweat that out, or wash that off, or, fuck, actually comprehend all the emotional shit I’m dealing with right now …

Life isn’t that easy though.

As the water turns warmer, I adjust the nozzle so it doesn’t get too hot and go about my routine of getting ready to face my day.

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