Page 117 of Game Changer
“Of course I’m okay.”She’s studying me, head cocked, and I drop my gaze.“Sort of,” I mutter.
She fidgets on the couch and takes a mouthful of tequila.“I thought maybe you’d want to talk about it.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
I look up and catch a flash of hurt in her eyes before she drops her gaze.Shit.
“My agent is handling it,” I add.“He’s doing what he can.”
“Are you worried about being traded?”
“More worried about an offer sheet.But nobody’s put one in.”
“A what?”
“Offer sheet.It’s basically a contract offer from another team.If they put in an offer sheet, the Aces have seven days to decide if they want to match it.”
“I see.”
“It doesn’t happen very often, but there’s been a lot of talk of it this year because of the salary cap crunch some teams are feeling.Including the Aces.”
“So…no other offers, no contract.You just sit in limbo and wait for a contract or to get traded.”
“Basically, yeah.We could go to arbitration.But we have to sign a contract by December first or I can’t play for the rest of the season.”
“That would suck.”
“Fuck, yeah.”
We’re both silent for a few minutes.
“Have you talked to your parents?”
“Oh yeah.They’ve called.But I don’t have much to tell them either.”
I don’t tell her that every time I talk to them, they ask about her.Not only that, every text message and email I get from Riley, Everly, and Grandpa and Chelsea asks about her.What the hell happened?She tagged along on a couple of trips with me and my whole goddamn family fell in love with her, apparently.
“Jax.It’s not just talking about news.It’s talking about how you’re feeling about all this.How you’re dealing with it.”
“I’m dealing with it fine.I’m skating and working out.”
She lets out a short sigh.We sit silently for a moment.I want to ask her a million questions about her classroom and how she’s doing and if she’s played trivia and…
She finishes her tequila and sets the glass down.“Well.I’ll go.”She stands.
Shit.I don’t want her to leave.I like having her here, even if we’re not saying anything.
My mouth goes dry and I jump to my feet.“Wait.”
She pauses.
I don’t know what to say.I don’t want to tell her that I feel lost.Weak.Scared.I don’t know what my future holds, and I fucking hate that.I’ve kept up the carefree, lighthearted front for the media and for my family.I can keep it up for her.
After a moment, she turns and walks out.
I follow her to the door, a bitter taste in my mouth.“Don’t worry about me,” I say lightly.“It’ll all be fine.”
She turns to face me, her pretty eyes shadowed, her mouth soft.“I know that,” she says quietly.“But I’m not so sure you do.”
