Page 87 of Fall Wherever They May

“You’re welcome.” The phone beeps, indicating she’s hung up.

“So did he say if the rumors were true?” River asks me through the speaker of my phone.

“He didn’t have to; his face said it all. God, River. I can’t—” My heart feels like it’s literally being ripped out of my chest. “I don’t want to—” Breaths deep enough to fill my lungs are not coming in; I’m sure I’m having a full-on panic attack. Am I supposed to place my head between my knees, or does that cause you to pass out? Though, maybe passing out wouldn’t be such a bad thing right about now. At least then I would be able to escape this pain.“I can’t live without him. What if he’s decided to explore his free agency and he moves across the country?”

“Aspen, you need to calm down. You haven’t even given him a chance to explain anything.”

A chime dings through my phone and a notification pops up. “He just texted me.” I sniffle.

“What’d he say?”

“Hold on . . .” I click the notification and read his last text. “He basically says that we shouldn’t wait to have aconversation.” I shoot off a text to him then continue, “I don’t want to talk to him yet. I’m fucking terrified of what he’ll say. I want to sit here in my bubble and pretend. You know?” Standing to my feet, I take a ragged breath and pace the area in front of my bed. “Why would he ask me to move in with him if he was just going to leave, River? The thing is I wanted to say yes right then. Can you imagine if I had? God, I would have moved in just to be asked to move right back out.”

A knock raps on the door, and Mom peeks her head in. “Luke and Trey are here.”

Tears trail down my cheek. I swipe them away with the back of my hand. “I have to go.”

“Okay, sis. Talk to Cal. Most importantly, listen to what he has to say before you pop off with that smart mouth of yours. I love you.”

“Love you too.” The phone beeps, letting me know she’s ended the call.

Staring back at me in the full-length mirror is a very broken version of myself. How am I supposed to go out there, face these two men, and be professional? I don’t think I have that in me right now. My face is red and splotchy, and I look like a goddamn raccoon. I grab my makeup wipes out of my luggage and begin to wipe the black makeup from under my eyes. It’s not perfect, but I guess it will have to do.

Cal is leaving me. I know he is. The media circus outside, Luke and Trey popping in, is all the confirmation I need that I’m losing him. They’re probably here to tell me that he isn’t renewing his contract or that he’s moving to another team across the country. I should have known this was all too good to be true. Like I’ve said over and over, men don’t stick around for me. I shouldn’t even be surprised at this point.

Taking another look in the mirror, I give myself a pep talk to stay professional and not cry. I walk out of the bedroom togreet my guest, “Sorry about that. What can I do for you two?” I try to keep my voice cheerful.

“You don’t have to do that, kiddo,” Luke says, wrapping his arms around me. Of course, I start crying all over again. God, I’m a mess.

Trey takes a seat. “We heard the rumors and were hoping Cal was here to clear them up.”

“He’s not here.” I release Luke and reach for a napkin setting on the counter. Taking a deep breath, I decide there is no better time than now to get down to business.

“I will say from the expression on Cal’s face when we were bombarded by the media that we’re not dealing with mere rumors here. I think it would be a good idea to start looking at possible draft picks for his position now.” My bare feet pad across the carpet as I pace back and forth through the sitting area. “With us being so high in the standings, we’re missing out on at least the first twenty-five picks. Look at the farm teams; see who we can bring up. We also need to look at trading up in the draft. Give someone our pick and a future first-round pick to put us higher up in the selection process. Hell, throw in a player as well; I don’t care at this point. All I know is I think we’re losing our best player, and I want plans: A, B, C, and D. Understood?” I lean against the window with my arms crossed, trying my hardest to stay professional.

“You got it, boss,” Trey says, at the same time a loud knock sounds at the door, causing me to damn near jump out of my skin. Mom has already sent Cal away, so I don’t know who in the world this could be. Slowly, I open the door before the damn thing slams against the wall. I’m immediately tossed into the air, and my stomach lands on someone’s cold, wet shoulder. “Sorry, gentlemen,” Cal calls out. “My woman and I have some business to take care of.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Aspen

“Put me down, you big lug.” I pound on his back. “You’re soaked.”

He slaps my ass hard. Fuck, it stings like fire. “If I put you down, are you going to run back to your suite or follow me to my room?”

I hang upside down as he carries me fireman stylethrough the hallway and into the elevator. “Please, put me down. This is making me nauseous.”

He slaps my ass again. “Answer the question.”

Once we’re in the elevator and trapped inside, I’m finally placed back on my feet. He prowls back and forth in the small space, keeping his eyes trained on me like a caged lion as we ride down in silence. The elevator doors open, and he gently grabs my arm to usher me forward.

The couple entering the elevator as we exit gives us a curious glance as I jerk my arm out of his hold. “I can walk without assistance, you know?” I snap.

Here we are in this swanky hotel with my bare feet padding down the hallway. We stop in front of Cal’s room. He swipes his keycard and holds the door open for me. I standunmoving, scared out of my mind of what he will say once we enter that room. His hand gestures for me to enter. The room is dark, aside from a dim light that glows from the other side of the cracked bathroom door, giving us just enough light to see.With a resigned sigh, I plop down on his bed and wait for him to speak. He pulls dry clothes out of his luggage and strips out of his wet ones. His ripped muscles flex as he changes into shorts, and I have to force myself to look away. I’m too upset right now to even think about how good he looks. My stomach is in knots, and I’m losing my mind, waiting for the worst. I pick at my nail polish, wishing he would just hurry up and speak. Dressed, he leans back against the dresser, scratching the back of his neck.

“What do I have to do to gain your trust, Aspen?”

I stop picking at my nails. “What do you mean by that? I do trust you,” I say, frowning in confusion.

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