Page 113 of The Problem with Players

AVERY

Get up, Avery.

No, no, no.

It wasn’t supposed to go like that. Not after the night I shared with Nathan. I was supposed to wake up and be okay. I was supposed to wake up and crawl out of my bed and be on cloud nine from not only winning the game the day prior but also for having the best sex of my life.

I wasn’t supposed to feel so…defeated.

But what if I’d made a mistake sleeping with Nathan? What if what we’d done changed everything? We were doing so good. There was no reason I should’ve let it get as far as it did the night before, but I wanted it so badly. I wantedhimso badly.

Still…

Now my mind was trying to convince me of everything that could’ve gone wrong.

If you don’t work out, the team could suffer, Avery.

Why would you let him back into your life after he left you before?

What happens now? You fall in love? Get real. You don’t do love. People don’t love you. People leave you.

My mind was getting louder and louder as I turned in the bed. I looked to my right, and Nathan was still lying beside me, his eyes closed.

A small smile sat against his lips as he muttered, “You up?”

I held my hands to my chest. “I am,” I whispered. “Have you been awake for a while?”

“Yes, but I wanted to wake up with you.” He opened his eyes and moved the falling pieces of my hair from my face. “Good morning.”

I tried to push out a smile, but it faltered. “Morning.”

He pushed himself up on his elbows and looked down at me. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing. Everything’s fine.”

He frowned. He fell back down to the bed and moved in closer, brushing his nose against mine. “Avery…what’s wrong? Was it last night?” Guilt flashed across his eyes. “Did you not want to?—”

“No.” I shook my head. “Last night was…perfect. It’s not you, it’s me.”

“That’s the last thing anyone wants to hear after a night of sex.”

“No, I mean it. It’s me, Nathan. I’m a little messed up sometimes.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know. I struggle to…” I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. “Sometimes it’s hard.”

“What’s hard?”

I blinked my eyes open, and a few tears trailed down my cheeks. “Everything.”

The guilt that once laced his stare shifted to care and concern. And understanding. Maybe that soothed my troubled soul the most—the understanding of his stare. “Are you sad, Avery?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know why?”

“No.”

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