Page 11 of Game Changer

Dammit.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

“I… Nothing.”

It must be on the plane somewhere. In the bathroom or wedged in between the seats.

No.

Mari’s phone buzzes. “I need to get some work done tonight to prove I’m relevant before I disappear for two weeks.”

After Mari leaves, I lift my pink suitcase onto the bed.

I dig out my jewelry box and set it on the wardrobe, lifting the lid.

Inside are necklaces, earrings, fun things from thrift stores.

No bracelet.

It wasn’t fancy, just a simple bangle, but it was my mom’s.

I can’t believe I was distracted enough that I lost it.

My chest tightens as my gaze lands on another piece of jewelry.

I shut the box lid quickly and turn back to my bags.

Maybe I didn’t put the bracelet on today.

It’s possible I was drunk on the flight. My memories are blurry.

Blurry enough to forget what I was wearing?

Blurry enough to hallucinate a seat mate and our entire conversation?

I unpack my carry-on, putting folded clothes in the empty dresser, then reach for the front zipper.

Feeling in the front pocket for anything I missed, I hit glossy paper, tightly bound. I pull out theSports Illustrated. When I open it, it falls open to the ripped-out page.

I trace the jagged edge and think of his warm eyes.

His strong hands.

His tattoos.

I bite my lip.

He’s real.

It felt so good. His touch, his attention. The way he looked at me as if he saw me.

But I’ll never see him again.

Which is good because I’m here for my sister, and a fresh start. The last thing I need is to be distracted by some gorgeous guy from a different world.

I drop the magazine on the wardrobe next to the jewelry box and resolve to forget him.

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