Page 55 of Hard to Break

The past week flashes through my mind.

“Nothing happened.” I need her to believe me. More than I need any other person to.

She nods slowly. “We all have lessons to learn, particularly when we’re young.”

It twists my gut that she’s questioning me.

“It was a mistake.” I force a smile. “A misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstandings are the most dangerous because we assume everyone sees things our way. They have a habit of escalating. I don’t want you to forget where you came from. Or what kind of man you are.”

Miles: You guys ready for the game tonight?

Miles: Dallas has been leaking oil in the fourth. Punish them for it.

Rookie: Thanks, man. Can’t wait to have you back.

Damon: Glad the drug test came back clean.

Damon: Not that we weren’t sure.

Jay: We’ll take care of Dallas. You take care of you.

I slouchon the couch as I watch the Kodiaks struggle through the third game without me.

It's painful to see my team fumbling, knowing I should be out there.

I invited Rookie to come with me to the amusement park the other day, but he passed, saying he had another commitment. Jay’s answering in polite monosyllables since Brooke walked out.

Everything sucks.

Waffles senses my frustration and shifts into my lap, his tongue lolling out as he nuzzles against my stomach.

“At least you're here for me, buddy.” I scratch behind his ears.

My thoughts drift to Brooke.

I miss her smile, her laugh, the way she fits perfectly in my arms. I hate that I can't be there for her right now, that I can't hold her and tell her everything's going to be okay.

The ache in my chest grows, and I go to the kitchen and open the stainless fridge. Beer stares me down.

I grab a soda and slam the door.

The buzzing of my phone interrupts my brooding.

My agent. I hit Accept and greet him brusquely.

“Miles. Bad news. Suspension stands,” he says evenly.

“What? Why?”

He drones on about procedures and the ongoing inquiry, but I tune it out before hanging up.

I’m sitting all five games, for no reason.

When I click off, I see a text from an old friend inviting me to a party.

Dante and I used to play in college, though he didn’t go on to get drafted. He’s in town for the weekend, saying he’s had a rough time and would love it if I came.

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