Page 29 of Waiting for Her

I glance away as tears build in my eyes so suddenly, I have no choice but to do a quick swipe at my cheeks to wipe away the hot trail.

“Don’t go there.”

My head snaps up to meet his bright blue eyes, emotion swimming in them.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve thought about it a lot over the years. When I was laying there, feeling like my life was over, you should have been with me, but if you had been and…” he closes his eyes briefly, head shaking side to side slowly, and looks out the big window overlooking part of the locker room. “You shouldn’t have been with me. It’s better this way,” he whispers.

“It isn’t,” I squeak out before I can stop myself.

The silence in the small room is deafening, and I’m sure he can probably hear my heartbeat thudding against my chest. “You’re partly right but nothing is going to change the past.” He clears his throat and stands up, reaches into a small fridge I hadn’t noticed earlier and pulls out two bottles of water, tossing one to me before settling into his seat again. I catch it easily and the simple action—him tossing me something for me to catch—brings back such a rush of memories it almost takes my breath away. He must feel it too because he pauses, bottle suspended in the air, before he chugs half of it down.

“We’ll be fine. We’re both adults now. Professionals. We can get through this and move on.”

The words are meant to assure me, but I wonder if they were for his own good as well.

“Like Andy always says, ‘we got this, yeah’?”

He grins the same grin I remember from when we were kids.

I knew the memories would be hard to ignore.

I didn’t realize it would bethishard.

I set my water on the desk in front of me and redo my pony tail to give my shaking hands something to do and adjust in my seat. I’m fidgeting, not able to get rid of this nervous energy coiling up my spine.

“Bri.” I look up at the sound of Grady’s voice. “I can’t do this today but soon, we’ll talk. Not about all this,” his hands gesture around him, “but about everything between us. I think it’s pretty clear we both need a bit of…” he swallows as if he’s hating the word he’s about to say, “closure.”

Shit.

I hate the word, too.

I nod once and rub my lips together. It’s become a nervous habit of mine, and I’m sure I’ll have to buy stock in lip balm after I get through the next six weeks.

Instead, I clear my throat and reach into my bag, pulling out a little notebook and recorder.

“Look at you. Just like a real reporter,” he teases.

I smile, grateful for his teasing.

“So. The accident.”

I know exactly what happened that night. But he doesn’t know I do.

He looks at me intently, eyes squinting for a moment, then down at his leg.

He reaches down and rubs his leg, I wonder if it’s out of habit or the fact that we’re talking about his injury. Maybe he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

“Like you mentioned, it was the night of Cole and Mia’s wedding. It was late, but nottoolate. Still, it was after midnight when I finally left the reception, but I was in pre-season training and, well, you know me,” he chuckles. “Cole and Mia were actually still there partying.” His smile is faint, seemingly lost is a happy memory of the night that changed his future. “Mom wanted me to stay at home with them that night, but I needed to get back to campus. I told her I’d come the next day for brunch, kissed her on the cheek, and left. We were a few weeks before regular practice was supposed to start so aside from a glass of champagne when we did toasts, I hadn’t been drinking.”

“I didn’t figure you had been. You were always dedicated,” I say, hating that everything coming out of my mouth seems to have double meaning.

“Yeah. My teammates gave me so much hell about it. I don’t know.” He shrugs one shoulder. “I’ve never really liked drinking anyway, you know that. My tolerance is shit because of it, but I hate feeling out of control. And I figured if a school is willing to take a chance on me to play for their team, the least I could do is give them my best.”

I smile, not needing to reply, and let him sit quietly while he thinks over his next words.

“Anyway. I didn’t see the car coming. I was driving down a road, I noticed the car on my left stopped at the stop sign up ahead. The car on my right, though. He came out of nowhere. Hit me in the passenger side so hard I slammed into the car waiting on my left. Perfect storm of an accident,” he shrugs like it’s not a big deal. But it is.

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