“And?” Her voice is barely above a whisper.
“I haven’t decided yet,” I add quickly, but the words feel hollow even as I say them.
Because the truth is…
I’malreadyrunning out of time.
***
Later that night, after Jake’s asleep and the house is quiet, I find myself back on the sofa staring at the ceiling while Spotty snores at my feet.
Abby’s beside me, her head resting on my shoulder, but I can feel the tension radiating off her in waves.
“Beck,” she murmurs softly, breaking the silence.
“Yeah?”
Her fingers brush against mine, tentative… but seeking.
“Whatever happens…” Her voice is so quiet I almost don’t hear it. “I don’t want to loseus.”
My chest tightens, and I turn slightly, pressing a kiss to her temple.
“You won’t,” I whisper, but the words feel like a promise I’m not sure I can keep.
Maybe my answer was sitting right in front of me this afternoon in the locker room, wearing a hoodie three sizes too big, with a spotted dog drooling on his shoe.
Chapter eighteen
Abby
“Idon’tknowifI can do this.”
The words slip out before I can stop them, barely above a whisper.
I’m standing by the kitchen window, staring down at Beck’s backyard where Jake is practicing slapshots with Beck. Spotty is running in circles around them, barking excitedly every time Jake sends the puck sailing toward the makeshift net.
They’re laughing. Carefree. Happy.
And my heart aches at the thought of that happiness slipping away.
“You can’t dowhatexactly?” Quinn’s voice drifts from the stove behind me, where she’s prepping food for our afternoon cookout.
I don’t turn around. I can’t.
“Move,” I murmur, my throat tightening. “If Beck takes that offer…”
My chest clenches just saying the words.
“Abs…”
Quinn’s tone softens, and I hear the rustle of fabric as she abandons the stove and comes to stand beside me.
“Have you told him how you feel?”
I shake my head, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”