Page 115 of Imperfect Player

Earlier today when I was supposed to be at the game, but I wasn’t.

Fuck.

Fuck it.

Fuck me.

Everly: I love you, Ethan. It’s going to be okay.

I wish to hell I could believe her.

Chapter 34

Ethan

With my head down and my eyes on the ground, I walk into Coach’s office. I already know what’s coming; I’m just trying to brace myself for actually hearing the words.

I’m finished. My career is over.

I know it. I’m just not sure I can bear to hear it.

“Sit down, Ethan,” Coach says the moment I step through the door.

With my gaze on the floor, I see multiple sets of shoes. The old ratty pair of sneakers, those belong to Coach. The high end, expense loafers, those belong to Tripp. The heels? Those . . . those are Everly’s.

“What is this, some sort of intervention?” I ask.

My head raises, my eyes scanning the room. There was one more set of shoes that I missed. More expensive loafers. These belong to the team owner, Jamal Hurt.

Fuck.

“We’re past the intervention stage,” Coach tells me.

“Let me guess, we’ve entered the lost cause stage?” I interject.

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” Everly says, her sunshine personality shining through.

Positive thoughts lead to positive results. If only that were true.

“It does though, doesn’t it, Coach? I did it again. Fucked up, in more ways than one.”

Coach shakes his head. “Why didn’t you just come to me?”

I shrug. “Easier said than done.”

“What is it this time?” he asks.

Everly looks at me with an encouraging smile and eyes filled with love and understanding. Christ, if she couldn’t save me, nothing can fix the broken in me.

Coach presses on, reiterating his question. “What is it? What happened?”

“Does it matter?” I ask.

His hand clamps down on my shoulder. “It matters to me.”

“To all of us,” Tripp says.

Mr. Hurt stands there, arms folded over his chest. He nods.

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