Page 167 of Delicate Storm

“I’m far from it. But we have a game to win, so I’m here.”

He steps forward, undoubtedly to ask me more, but Pierce blows his whistle, saving me from having to elaborate.

Then I attempt to be a football player. I sayattempt, because if anyone that didn’t know me was watching, I’d barely pass as an amateur.

And I have no one to blame but myself.

The one time I let my guard down, letting someone else in, and she’s not here when I want her. Somehow, I’ve managed to fuck up another relationship and, in turn, potentially shatter Isaac’s heart. Again.

Zane throws me the ball and I fumble, dropping it to the ground. I expect him to laugh or gloat, but when he frowns almost sympathetically, I shake my head and turn away. I can’t think straight for long enough to catch a ball, let alone care about what Zane thinks. That doesn’t mean I haven’t noticed that the coaches are pissed.

“Get out of your head, Easton. When you’re here, you leave all your other shit at the door.”

I nod, like I always do when he uses this line on the team, but today, I don’t agree with him. It’s not that simple. And I doubt I’m going to contribute anything useful to this practice or this team until I’ve figured myshitout. “I’ve gotta go, Coach.”

“What? We’ve barely started.”

“I know. But if I don’t go now, my game’s only going to get worse.”

He stares me down, his brows raised in disdain, waiting for me to cave, but I hold strong. I’m leaving with or without his permission.

“Tell me what’s more important than being here with your team. If this is because it’s Thanksgiving—”

“Let him go, Coach.” My gaze snaps to Reed’s as he steps forward, confusing me. “It doesn’t matter why. Easton doesn’t fuck around. If he says he has to go, he has to go.”

Ah, shit. I cringe. “Thanks, Reed, but I don’t—”

“Go,” Coach cuts in. “Just go. But you better get your ass back here tomorrow with a clear head or I’ll drop you from the game. Got it?”

“Got it. Thanks.”

I reluctantly turn to thank Reed again, but he waves me off, turning away before I open my mouth.

And then I run… For all I know, Paige is gearing up to disappear on me, and I can’t fucking handle that. Not anymore.

I’m through the tunnel and on my way to the locker room when I hear my name and cringe. “Wilder!” Paige’s dad calls out, halting me in place, and it’s the last thing I need right now.

“I know we need to talk,” I say as I turn to face him. “But now isnotthe time.”

“Of course it’s not.” Sal shakes his head. “You’re supposed to be at practice.”

Fuck. He’s worried about that?

“I—”

“I don’t give a fuck about practice. Not today. Did Paige tell you what’s going on?”

My head drops back as I sigh. “She did.”

“And—”

“And what?” I throw my hands out in question despite being acutely aware that I should be nice. “Sorry, I—”

“What are you going to do about it?” Sal cuts in, waving off my comment. “Are you letting her walk away?”

“What? Fuck, no. Why do you think I’m skipping practice?”

“Good. Cause she’s going to need you. I have to head back to New York for a few days and—”

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