Page 72 of Between the Blue
I blow out a breath. Close my eyes. And now I know.
I don’t need to talk to Jules to know my choice.
“You’re right,” I exhale.
“That’s what I thought–” Rhett starts, then stops. “Wait, what? Really?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Um, sure,” he says. “What’s up?”
I sit up in my bed.
“What would you think about playing another couple of seasons together?”
nineteen
HER
The season starts tomorrow.
And based on how intense the singular preseason game I worked was–in ways not even involving hockey or photography– it would be an understatement to say I’m a little anxious.
I would normally say I’m happy I have the gym as a reprieve this morning, but, for obvious reasons, I don’t think my morning workout is going to do anything to reduce my stress today.
I haven’t talked to Ben since our interaction in the locker room.
I had no idea what I was thinking going in there. There was just something drawing me inside.
To him.
I know Ben’s a professional athlete, but it’s hard to watch someone you know get punched in the face and not even attempt to check on them. Clearly, I didn’t put much thought into what Ben’s reaction would be. But even if I had, I wouldn’t have been able to predict what ended up happening if you gave me a million guesses.
Something happened in that locker room. Something I can’t quite put my finger on. It was like there was a sudden, physicalshift in the air between Ben and me. One minute, things were heated. He was so angry, and I wasn’t backing down. But then the next…
I feel a shiver down my spine as I close my car door, remembering. I can still see his eyes boring into my own. Can still feel the warmth of his mouth so dangerously close to mine. I still hear the way his voice broke, just a little, when he said that nickname of mine I’ve hated for months now.
I’m not sure how much I hate it anymore.
I shake my head, pushing the thought from my mind.
This is Ben.
He’s just the jerk from my gym.
The jerk Itechnicallywork for.
I shift my thoughts to that. To my work. The purpose of this all.
I’ve done well so far in my role with the Texas Storm. I’ve taken a slow and steady approach to their social media as I’ve been warming up, but it's getting a good response. I’ve gotten good feedback from Rick, and I’m happy with what I’ve been producing. But I can’t quite say that I’mproudof it yet. My pictures have been good. But I just feel like there’s something missing. I haven’t felt that magical spark in my chest yet that I always get when I know I’ve captured something amazing. Something that looks like it belongs in a magazine.
I do what I’ve been doing all weekend and ponder what I could do to take things to the next level, not realizing I’ve gotten completely lost in my thoughts until a voice breaks through them.
“Hi.”
The voice is cold. Blunt. Not kind. But it’s there.
I blink several times, finding that it is, in fact, Ben standing in front of me.
