Page 46 of Hard to Break

Brooke releases me and steps back.

I don’t want her to look at me like that, but my mind has been spinning since management turned up coke in my locker.

“If it wasn’t you, then there’s a way to frame this until they get to the truth,” she says. “The pressure of being the number-one option on a team can get to a person.”

I pause to look at her. “That’s not what’s happening.”

“I know, but you need a story to buy you time.”

“There’s not always a story, Brooke. This is my life.”

Frustration rises up, all the emotions of this day concentrating as my gaze lands on the team photo I have mounted inside the door, one that Brooke had made for me.

My fist tightens and I bang it into the wall.

The frame jumps and drops to the floor, the glass shattering on the hardwood. Waffles whimpers.

Brooke pulls Waffles away from the door.

Fuck.

“I’m sorry, Princess. It’s been a hell of a day.”

I have to clean this up. There’s a broom somewhere, but when I check the front hall closet, I don’t see anything.

I stalk through my condo to check every closet.Where is a fucking broom when you need one?

I finally track down the broom and take it to the front hall. I sweep up the pieces of glass.

“Maybe you need some time to yourself. To process everything,” she says.

“I don’t need to process anything,” I say, straightening with the dustpan.

One extra piece of glass glints in the light on the floor, and I bend to retrieve it, then curse as it slices into my finger. It’s barely a paper cut, but it stings, bright red blossoming on my finger.

“I care about you, and I’m telling you that you haven’t been the subject of this much attention before,” she tries.

Brooke reaches for my hand, but I shrug her off and head for the kitchen. I dump the glass into a trash bag and wrap it inside another.

“I’ve lived under the same roof with my brother,” she presses. “I know how intense things get.”

“It won’t get intense,” I say.

She reaches for my finger. I pull away, and she looks at me with surprise and regret, like the guys in the hallway when management dragged me off earlier.

“You want smooth sailing. It won’t be for a while. Everyone is going to be scrutinizing you—who you spend time with, your priorities.”

She’s not wrong, which is why I’m silent as she continues.

“Maybe we should take a little space.”

Those words snap me back. I’m not quiet now.

“Nothing’s wrong with how I spend my time or who with,” I say firmly.

“It’s an important time for your season. You need to focus on basketball.” Brooke tilts her face. “You don’t have the luxury of time with the playoffs a month away.”

I’m still hearing “space.”

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