Page 12 of Play the Last Track
For a minute there in Italy, I was the one to make that look disappear. For a minute, I thought maybe I could keep that look from ever crossing her face.
But no, I fucked that up too, somehow.
Scott steers Ivy back to the booth and slides in, her hand in his, tugging her to sit down with him.
“Hang on, let me just go say hi to Katie.” Ivy pulls her hand out of Scott’s, and the gesture makes him scowl. I can’t help my laughter.
“Careful, Ivy. He’s been on edge all day without his fix of you.”
“Shut up, Reed.”
Ivy just laughs, kisses her boyfriend, and then skips off to the bar where Katie is now waiting for her. The girls hug, and I watch as Ivy twirls a piece of Katie’s long hair around her finger. I scowl, jealousy coursing through me. I want to twirl her hair around my finger.
“What’s up with you?” Scott asks, and my attention shifts back to him.
“What?”
“You’re staring.”
“No idea what you’re talking about.”
“You ever figure your shit out with Katie? Find out why she hates you?”
“No,” I grumble, sinking into my seat. I haven’t told Scott just how far Katie and I went. I have no idea how much Katie told Ivy, either. My guess is that they know something went down, but not the full extent. Scott became protective over Katie after the breakup with Grant. Like he took on the big brother role in her life without her asking.
“I think she’s still hurting after Grant. Or, at least, that’s what Ivy thinks.” He takes another sip of his beer, still half full, while my glass is empty. “I guess she probably hates all men at the moment.”
I only hum in response, my eyes flickering over to the girls again, sliding the empty pint glass on the table between my fingers. I’m about to get up and head for the bar, order another drink, and see iftoday is the day Katie may spare me a glance, when the door opens again.
Hollie is here.
“Goddamn, why does she always look angry?” I mumble under my breath as she makes her way over to us.
Scott turns his head and lifts a hand in greeting. “Because sheisangry. With you.”
“Boys.” Hollie places her designer bag on the table and slides into the booth next to Scott, across from me. Her brown hair is tinted red, up in a slicked ponytail, and her fingers are covered in rings.
“I’m twenty-nine, Hollie. Stop calling me a boy,” I say, annoyed. I can’t help the way my gaze flickers to Katie, praying she wasn’t in earshot of that.
“When you fuck up the way you fucked up, you’re a boy,” she snaps. I press my lips together and hold a reply. It doesn’t do anyone any good to argue with this woman.
“I just came from a meeting across the road.” She pulls out an iPad and unlocks it. Across the screen, I can see a page full of detailed notes. I gulp.
“And?” I ask, glancing at Scott, who just shrugs and takes another sip of his beer.
“Good news first,” she says, scrolling down the page. “Scott, they want to make the captaincy official, so I will be doing a series of collaborative posts on your account this week. I need you to do a photoshoot tomorrow—”
“But I have to—”
“Whatever part of your house you’re renovating right now can wait. Tomorrow, the stadium, in a gameday suit, ten o’clock. Donot be late, and you will be done within the hour.” Hollie looks at Scott and frowns. “I promise. No longer than an hour.”
“Fine.” He sighs, giving in.
“Good. Now, you.” She points the iPad’s pencil at me. “They are royally pissed. I managed to convince them it was a one-off and you were having a moment. That the guy antagonized you, and you just snapped. You will apologize to the team at Wednesday’s practice and to the coaching staff. Yes?”
“Yes.” I nod.
An apology. Thank god. Since we’d spoken last week, I had been stressing over this wholefake girlfriendthing that Hollie had gotten into her head was a good idea. It has been on my mind all weekend. It isn’t a good idea. Not even in the slightest. I urge myself to stay facing forward and not seek out Katie wherever she is in the bar. An apology is easy and much deserved.
