Page 26 of Empty Net

I chuckle. “That’s fair. Are you going to stay here all day?”

“Yes.”

“Can I at least get you anything?”

“Water?”

“You got it.”

I push to my feet and pad back into the kitchen. I grab the same mug I used earlier and fill it with water before searching through the cabinets and her pantry for something light to eat in case she needs it. The only thing I can find is four different flavors of Goldfish, so I grab those and the mug, then head back to her bedroom.

Lilah is still on the floor, but I can tell she’s still awake from her breathing. I set her provisions on her bedside table, head into her connected bathroom, and riffle through her cabinets until I find a bottle of ibuprofen. When I return to her room, she’s moved, now on her back.

She cracks one eye open. “I think you might be the best fake boyfriend I’ve ever had, Fox.”

So I guess she remembers that part of last night.

“Have you had a lot of fake boyfriends?”

She closes her eyes again. “Nope, but I can already tell you’re going to be the best.”

I smile, even though she can’t see me.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it free to find several texts from my teammates, wondering where I am, I’msure. I’m the perpetually early one on the team. Even though we still have fifteen minutes until practice starts, this is late for me.

“I gotta go,” I tell her, backing away.

She grunts.

“I’ll talk to you later?” I cross the threshold.

Another noncommittal noise.

“Bye, Lilah.”

I’m just outside her bedroom when I hear her.

“Bye, Arthur.”

Even though my head is killing me, I’m still dehydrated, and I’m undoubtedly walking into practice late, I still have a smile plastered to my face the whole time.

“Come on, Coach. You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m very serious, Lawsy. Actually, I’m so serious, you get an extra lap.”

He groans but wisely—something rather unusual for Lawson—doesn’t say anything else.

We’re all feeling the repercussions of last night. All of us except for Coach Smith, who, if I remember correctly, left around 11 PM because it was “way past bedtime.” Naturally, we made fun of him for being so old after he left, but now… Now, I kind of wish I had left early, too. Maybe I wouldn’t be so damn hungover right now.

But then, I also wouldn’t have stayed over at Lilah’s, meaning this morning’s events wouldn’t be burned into my mind. Even though I’m pretty sure I’m moments away from puking, I still can’t get the image of a sprawled-out Lilah out of my head. It’s wrong. I shouldn’t be thinking of her, especially not in a momentof vulnerability like that, but still. It’s right there at the forefront, no matter what I do.

“Fox!”

“Coach?”

He narrows his eyes at me. “I said, hit the net after the skate, yeah? We’re doing shooting drills, and you’re up first.”

“Yes, sir,” I say, fighting a grimace.

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