Page 39 of The Problem with Players

I glanced at Wesley, then toward the dinner, then back at him.

A big part of me wanted to ruin the whole meal. I wanted to throw the steaks against the wall and smear the butter in his face. What was he doing? Why was he working so hard to ruin what we had? We were supposed to be stable with one another. We were supposed to make sense. Sure, we weren’t romantic, but we were supposed to be a team.

This wasn’t teammate behavior. If anything, it was as if he’d benched me and I’d been replaced by another woman fourteen days before our wedding.

“I’m going to bed,” I murmured, feeling slightly too exhausted and hurt to deal with any more interactions with him. All I wanted to do was crawl into my bed and stay there for the next few weeks.

11

AVERY

The next twelve days sped by faster than I was ready for them to move.

The air was thick with the scent of freshly mown grass and the lingering warmth of the sun. It was a much warmer start to spring than we were used to in Illinois, but I wasn’t complaining. After the weekend, April was upon us, and I was thankful for more sunny days than snowy ones. The temps were even in the sixties, which seemed remarkable.

The guys threw me a pre-wedding celebration after our Thursday game. Although we didn’t win the series that week, we came damn close to doing so, and the energy of the group was growing more and more each week. More students also attended the games to watch the team play. I had no doubt that we could pull out a win over the next few weeks with how the team performed.

When we walked back into the sports facility, a table was set up with balloons and a cake that read, “Congratulations, Coach K on your home run.”

I couldn’t help but feel loved by the scene in front of me. The guys had lost a game, but they smiled ear to ear as if thecelebration was more exciting than a win. The gesture was so kind and warmed my heart even as it tugged at the threads of doubt woven through my excitement. I should’ve been more excited about the wedding taking place in two days, aboutmywedding. Yet with every passing second, I felt more and more anxiety in my chest. I felt more unsure, more unstable, more…scared.

I wondered if that was normal. Was it normal to feel terrified in the days leading up to “I do”?

Nathan stood back and took everything in. He’d been a bit quieter over the past few days, and I couldn’t pinpoint why, but I also knew it was none of my business. He was my co-worker, not my friend. Anything going on in his private life was none of my business. Still, I couldn’t help but notice his less-than-perky self.

Caleb cut the cake and handed everyone a slice. I took two pieces from him, and I walked over to Nathan, who was visibly frowning. I held out a slice of cake toward him. He took it and gave me a lazy smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“Yeah, sure.” Curiosity hit me more with each passing second. “Are you upset about the game? Even though we lost, I think we had some amazing plays, and with some solid drills over the next few weeks, we can get the guys in better shape. I have no doubt we can beat the Graters when we play them and?—”

“Don’t marry him,” he blurted out. His voice was low, only slightly above a whisper, and direct. My mind took a second to comprehend what he said. The seriousness in his tone broke my heart.

“What?”

“You heard me, Avery. Don’t do it.”

I blinked, and when my eyes opened once more, Nathan’sstare looked more dreadful. As if every passing second was breaking his heart.

“Nathan. I know Wesley and I have had a few rocky weeks, but that doesn’t change the fact that we’ve had many more okay days than bad. And we love one another and?—”

“He hurt you,” he expressed through gritted teeth.

“He apologized.”

“What’s the point of an apology if he keeps doing the same behavior?”

I felt sucker punched by his words.

He stepped in closer, his voice a hair above a whisper. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Accept the lowest form of disrespect and still consider it love.”

Those words pierced through me as I stumbled back, shaking my head. “I’m not doing this, Nathaniel.”

He sighed. “Aver?—”

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