Page 43 of Changing Rules

I snag my phone from the nightstand and check the time. Four a.m.Fuck. I need to be at practice at ten.

Forcing my eyes closed, I will sleep to take over. I need it, or I’ll be a fucking mess. The last thing I need is to get shit from Coach, since I need to bolt out of practice the second it ends to make it to Bella’s mom’s on time.

I rushinto the locker room fifteen minutes late, feeling like shit. I have no doubt I look like it too. My head hurts, and my eyes are tired.

Heart pounding, I toss my clothes into the locker before I change into my gear.

“Walker?” Andy, Coach’s assistant, stops at the threshold, his brows pulled together. “You’re late.”

“You’re observant,” I quip. The second the words are out, I frown. I’m not in a good mood, but that doesn’t give me any right to be rude, especially when all he did was tell the truth. “Sorry,” I say.

“Don’t sweat it,” he says. “But Coach won’t be happy.”

“Kinda figured that.” I nod as I stroll past him.

Coach won’t be the first person who isn’t happy with me today. When I got up this morning, Bella and Milo were gone, and by the time I left, they still hadn’t returned. Her car was in the driveway, so I can only assume she took Milo for a long walk in hopes of avoiding me.

And she succeeded.

“Does this have anything to do with the gossip?” Andy follows me, his shoes clicking on the tile. “Your girlfriend pissed about it or what?”

“What?” I stop in my tracks, heart stumbling, and turn to face him.

He raises his hands and winces.

Does everyone know about these pictures? The fucking pictures I haven’t even seen myself?

“Sorry, it’s not my business. We just keep track of the gossip so we can get ahead of any potential fallout.”

“I don’t remember anyone giving a shit about Miller’s stint in rehab,” I bite out, anger rising in my chest.

He shrugs. “It’s all about algorithms and shit. Some news spreads faster than others.”

“It’s not news. It’s garbage.”

“If you say so.”

I spin around and get up in his face. “What the fuck does that mean?”

He lifts his chin. “Nothing.”

“That bullshit won’t work with me,” I grit. “What do you mean?”

“Miller talked to me after the two of you fought.” Andy stands a little taller. “He said you went after his girl for revenge and that you’d be bored with her soon enough, that you’d leave her for another girl. Or a string of them.” He shrugs again. “These new photos kinda confirm he was right.”

“Miller raped a girl in college, and he tried to do the same to Bella,” I hiss, bringing my face to his so we’re nose to nose. “If that’s the kind of person you trust, I don’t want anything to do with you.”

Without waiting for a response, I turn around and head to the field. Why waste my time on a guy who can’t see Miller is full of crap? I swear, the world is full of people whose stupidity leads to nothing but pain and suffering.

As if I’m any better. I’m the fucking definition of stupid.

“Walker! What the fuck took you so long?” Coach hollers. “Get your ass on the field.”

“Good morning to you too,” I shout back.

He scowls, but not before a smirk creeps across his face.

Can’t fool me, man. The guy has a soft spot for me.

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