Page 97 of The Love You Win

“She okay?” Mira asks, looking over my shoulder.

I shake my head. “I don’t know.”

Of course, I won’t tell Isla I’ll be mad if she doesn’t come over tonight as planned. I know this has been a lot for her. But the creeping, crawling sensation of dread that skitters around my stomach makes me consider it.

I don’t want her to pull away. I need to ensure that whatever I plan for her in place of the fall festival shows her how much I care. How much I’m falling for her. That I’ll do anything to protect her.

Me

Of course, I won’t be mad. Are you sure you’re okay?

Isla

Definitely. GTG. The next period is starting.

Okay, baby. Miss you.

Miss you, too.

I stare at my phone for a moment, lost in thought. When my sister’s hand rests on my shoulder, I shake my head and snap out of it.

Everything is going to be okay. This is just a little bump.

“All right. Let’s make a plan to get you moved in with Wright. Do you need someone to help you pack up a truck in Chicago?”

One of Mira’s eyebrows lifts, but she doesn’t call me on my abrupt subject change. “Nah. I don’t have much. I got rid of a lot of stuff before I moved in with Jared.”

“Okay. What day do you want us to move you into Wright’s place?”

I can’t fully banish the low-level anxiety crawling around my stomach, but I do my best. Everything will be fine.

Things aren’t fine. We have our first official home game the week after Mira leaves. When I asked Isla if she wanted to go and sit in the box with the other wives and girlfriends, she declined. Not that I blame her. The bullshit comments about her haven’t stopped. In fact, I’ve made it a part of my daily routine to check her Instagram account just to make sure no trolls have made their way onto her followers list. The last thing my girlfriend needs is some knuckle-dragging dipshit making gross comments about her on her own feed.

She’s getting enough of that on everyone else’s.

That’s how I come across a couple of comments from her ex.

My teammates laugh and talk as we get ready for tonight’s game. I’m already dressed and in my skates, so I’m doing my daily scroll through her feed. She hasn’t posted anything since the preseason game, but there are new comments on a photo of Isla and her friends from the silent auction dinner and a smiling selfie Isla took in her classroom the day she finished decorating it.

LawBro19: You always looked beautiful in that dress. Remember when you got it and how I peeled it off of you that night?

LawBro19: The room looks great. But you’ve always had a knack for decorating.

Blood roars in my ears. Remember when you got it and how I peeled it off of you that night? What. The. Fuck? Fighting the urge to chuck my phone against the wall, I click on the username. His bio tells me this is Alex. Isla’s ex, Alex.

Why is he commenting on her photos? Especially comments like that?

“You okay?” Sebastian lowers himself onto the bench beside me. His pads bump my knee. “You look like you’re about to murder someone.”

“Might be,” I grumble.

“What’s up?”

Unable to form the words, I flip my phone over and point to the comment Alex left about Isla’s dress. Bash’s brow knits into a frown.

“Deranged fan?”

I shake my head. “No, man. Her ex.”

---