Page 11 of The Hearts We Fumble
“Everly said she moved back home,” Hayes mentions. I have to wonder if he knows why I’m asking, but thankfully, he’s not saying much to let on if he does.
Colter sighs, flicking through the play selection.
“Her roommate transferred, leaving Braysen out of nowhere,” he explains. “Left her in a bind, mid-semester and all. It’s not like it’s easy to find a reliable roommate at the last minute. Plus, my mom has the space, and I think she likes having her home again, so Wyatt moved back.”
His voice is matter-of-fact like it’s not a big deal.
But it is. At least to me.
“Why? Did something happen?” Colter asks, finally looking over.
I shrug, keeping my face unreadable. “Nah. I was just wondering if something was up. Her car hasn’t moved much.”
It’s a lie.
I’ve seen her leave a couple of times. I’m trying not to make it obvious that I’ve noticed, but most of the time, she gets rides from Tatum and that chick Claudia. She rarely drives herself.
Colter hums like something just clicked. “Oh yeah, that reminds me…”
He trails off. Pauses.
I glance over. “What?”
Colter shrugs like he’s just now remembering. “She mentioned her check engine light was on. I told her I’d see when you were working again, Hayes. Maybe she can swing by, and you can take a look.”
“No problem,” Hayes replies easily. “I’m only working a couple of days a week during the season, but I’ll text her the days I’m there, and she can come by.”
I nod, keeping my expression neutral before adding, “If it’s not too much to fix, just go ahead and take care of it. I’ll cover the cost.”
Colter frowns. “You don’t have to do that, man.”
“Just tell her it was nothing. That you looked at it, and it’s fine.” I lift my beer to my lips, keeping my tone casual. “No sense in having her stress over it.”
Hayes smirks like he wants to say something but doesn’t. “You got it.”
We play a couple more rounds ofMadden, tossing back beers, letting the night slip by. By the time the guys start packing up, it’s after eleven.
Knox lives a block away, so he grabs his leftover pizza and heads out on foot while Colter and Hayes ride home together.
I should go to bed early. Get some rest before practice. Instead, I lace up my sneakers and slip out the door. I cut across the yard—through the Vaughns’ backyard—until I’m standing at the base of the tree outside Wyatt’s room.
I shouldn’t be here, and even I know it. But knowing and caring are two different things.
I could go to the front door and knock like a normal person, but that’s never been how Wyatt and I worked.
If I’m going to show up uninvited and question her about moving back home, it has to be the same way I always have—climbing this damn tree, just like all the times before when I wanted to check on her.
My body protests as I reach for the large branch, groaning as I swing a leg up and grab on. My foot scrapes against the bark, slipping slightly before I catch my balance and haul myself higher.
It’s been a while since I’ve done this. I keep myself in pretty solid shape playing football, but tree climbing? Apparently, it’s not my strong suit anymore.
Something I’ll have to fix now that Wyatt is living next door again.
By the time I reach the thick branch level with her window, my muscles burn in places I don’t want to admit.
Breaking off a thin twig, I stretch out and tap it against the glass.
Nothing.
