Page 51 of The Drop

The Bear-Now, how do we organise an intervention?

Chapter Twenty Four

Grant

Brooke’s avoiding me; she bailed on us going to the thrift store after our night together, and my texts have gone unanswered for three days.

I'm walking out of the yoga studio where Brookes goes, having just attended a class, half hoping she would be there so I could corner her, and half because she says it's good for her mental health, and I wanted to give it a try. Can confirm it works, and I feel calmer.

My phone rings in my pocket, and I pull it out to see my mom's name on the screen.

“Hey, Mom”, I answer, grabbing my keys out of my gym bag as I approach the jeep.

“Hey sweetie”, her warm voice fills my ear, and I smile. I'm a mama's boy. Sure, I did the sports thing with my dad, butit was my mom I always ran to when I'm having trouble “Just wanted to check on you? Your texts were short this week”

Nothing gets past this woman. I had been in my head a lot this week. My night with Brooke had been amazing, but then she won't talk to me, and now I don't know what I've done wrong and how to fix it.

“Nah, I'm good, I just did a yoga class because I was feeling off” Chucking my bag in the back and hopping in, ready to get home.

“Oh, that sounds fun. Did you go with your new friend Brooke?” She's digging, and I smile to myself.

“No, I didn't, but our group's going out tonight for drinks, so I’ll see her then” I smile because even though we aren't talking, I can't wait to see her.

“Well, I won't keep you then, I just wanted to check you're ok, honey”

“I promise I'm a good mom, but thank you.” She always worries that I put too much pressure on myself, especially since I've already signed my NHL contract.

“ok, I love you”

“Love you too, Mom, speak soon” I hang up and put the jeep in drive to get home and change. We are going to the bar tonight, and I'm running behind.

I get back to our apartment and realise it has gone from a small group of us to the entire hockey team, figure skaters, and I spot the girls Brooke was with at the pool party split between our apartment and the girls.

I duck into our apartment, chuck my bag on my bed and change quickly, walking out and bumping straight into grinning Adam, shoving a beer into my hand.

“Any reason you stayed late to work out after the team left when you already put in the hours at the gym this morning?” he asks, raising his eyebrows up and down at me.

I stayed late to distract myself from the fact that Brooke lives next door to me, but won’t talk to me, but I’m not going to tell him that. “Just needed some extra time with weights.” I shrug, chugging the beer in one go.

“Huh? I thought you said you were going to do a run earlier.” He smirks at me, catching me in my lie, and I inwardly groan because I had said that. I didn't want the guys to know I went to the yoga class because they would have put two and two together and got Brooke.

“You’re supposed to be the unobservant one.” I narrow my eyes at Adam and shove past him, hearing him bark out a laugh as I head toward the girl’s apartment to look for Gunnar.

The girl’s apartment always has a different vibe from ours on party nights, with more music and games, whereas ours is Mario Kart and poker. I find Gunnar talking to some rookies on the balcony.

He nods to me as I scan the inside of the apartment and see Brooke sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table with some other girls playing a card game, and as if she can sense me looking at her. She looks up, and our gazes lock before she quickly looks down, blushing, before she stands up and heads down the hallway toward her room.

“What time are we heading out?” I ask Gunnar, not looking at him, but keeping my eyes trained on Cami, who’s playing flip cup on the island.

“Uh, I think in about twenty,” he says, checking his phone and trying to keep in the conversation with the rookies he is standing with, so I take the advantage of everyone being distracted and slip down the hallway with no one noticing.

She’s either in the bathroom or her room, and I gamble on her room. I gently ease the door open and slip inside; she’s facing her mirror across from the door, and her eyes widen when she spots me.

“Hi,” she whispers, not turning around and still looking in the mirror, grabbing the end of her ponytail and twirling it.

“Oh, so you will talk to me.” I raise my eyebrows, leaning against the door and crossing my arms. More so, to stop myself from touching her and giving her space.

“Would you believe I dropped my phone down the toilet?” She finally turns around and gives me a sheepish look, biting her lip nervously.

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