Page 80 of The Way We Collide

Like we do.

“She seems very comfortable with you.”

“I’m not comfortable with her. I told the guys not to let her near me again.”

Raven’s brow furrows. “Why?”

“Because…” My voice rises. “I would never do you like that, Pink. It’s disrespectful.”

Her full lips pull downward. “You don’t owe me anything, Hendrix. You can see whoever you want.”

“She’s not who I want to see.”Doesn’t she understand?

Holding out her hand, she’s so logical. “Maybe we could use her as our excuse… when it’s time.”

“No!” Her eyes blink wide, and I exhale slowly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I don’t want to use her for anything. I don’t want her.”

I want you…

With a little nod, she turns away. “Still… I think it was a good thing. I was starting to forget why I’m here.” She looks over her shoulder at me, attempting to smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I think maybe you were, too.”

Shaking my head, I exhale. “I remember.”

“We were getting,shew, way too close.” She waves a hand, pretend-talking to herself. “Like, what are you doing, Raven? This is strictly a means to an end. Get it together.”

“Right.” My voice is quiet, and I rub my hand over the ache in my stomach. “It’s also so I can spend time with Haddy.”

“Yes.” She straightens, doing a little snap-point like I found the right answer. “We’re doing this for Haddy.”

Our eyes meet, and the air around us feels heavy. I want to argue. I want to say everything has changed. What’s happening hereisdifferent, and maybe it’s worth the risk.

But whose risk is it? Who’s ready to give up their dream to make it happen?

So instead, I say goodnight.

It’s only been a few weeks, and yes, I remember why she’s here. I remember who I am.

I’m a player. I love football. We made a deal, and in the end, we’ll shake hands and walk away, just like she said.

Like nothing ever happened.

21

Raven

All night, I toss and turn.

I’ve been fighting tears since that woman appeared on the field, hugging her body so close to his, smiling up at that reporter and acting like he belonged to her.

Which is wrong and fucked-up, and goes against everything I’ve told him since the day we moved here.

We’d been having so much fun. Heather was sweet, and Haddy had a blast, squealing and waving. She played with Heather’s daughter Shelby, who she seemed to remember from the nursery. Everyone was talking and screaming and laughing.

Hendrix was electric on the field. Watching him break through the line, run the ball again and again, scoring, celebrating with his teammates. Every time he’d look up and wave or point at me, my insides would vibrate with pride.

I did my best to deflect to Haddy, bouncing her on my hip and making her wave. I’d tell her to look at Daddy on the field, but she was more interested in playing with the other children.

Not me. I couldn’t take my eyes off his elegant moves, his complete control.

---