Page 74 of Play Maker

Jace.

I reached out for him, but realized, too late, that there was nothing around me but cold bedsheets.

Idiot.You were dreaming.

Shit. I rubbed a hand over my face, trying to wake up, and then reached for my phone. Last night, after leaving the party, I’d come back to my room, alone. Jace was downstairs in his room. Safe and sound, and yeah, the farther he was away from me, the safer we’d both be.

I had a hangover, but it served me right. It hit me all at once; I was dizzy, nauseous, and my temples pulsed with a wicked headache. It was nothing that greasy food and a gallon of water wouldn’t fix. Then again, it wasn’t just the hangover that was making me feel out of sorts. It was the reality of what I’d done.

Not just fooling around with Jace but acting territorial about him. I could only hope that his hangover was worse than mine and that he’d remember none of what happened.

My phone began to ring and really, who the fuck was calling me on a Saturday morning (afternoon)?

When I saw the name on the screen, the nausea in my stomach had me swallowing down bile.

“Lo?” I answered, my voice hoarse with sleep.

“Axel, it’s about goddamn time you finally answered your phone. I’ve been calling all morning.”

I quelled at the sound of my mother’s raspy voice.

“How can I help you?” I asked calmly even though I was anything but.

She didn’t text or call me, ever, unless she needed something or wanted to remind me what a disappointment I was. Either way, it was never good. Never.

“I understand your team has a game in Albany in three weeks, against Grainger College,” she continued.

“How—” I muttered as I rubbed my eyes. “How did you know that?”

“We live in a college town, Axel. I’m calling to tell you that your father and I will be there. After your game, we need to talk.”

“Can’t,” I grumbled, reaching for my pill case and the bottle of water on my nightstand. I popped my meds and took a gulp of water. “Team dinner. No exceptions. Sorry.”

“You’ll make time after the game or we’re coming to Vermont. Your choice.”

I knew my mother and her singular determination. There was no point in arguing. I sighed and ran a hand over my scruff. “Fine. I can give you ten minutes after the game. We’ll meet in the lobby.”

“That works,” she replied briskly. “Have you talked to Jonas lately?”

“You mean, did he call me asking for money? Yes, he did. And yeah, I gave it to him.”

“Good. That’s good,” I heard a sigh of relief on the other end of the line. “Your father and I are a bit short of cash this month.”

“This month?” I scoffed. “Try again.”

“You really are an ungrateful little bitch, you know that?” she hissed.

I should’ve been surprised at the name calling, but unfortunately, I wasn’t.

“I know a lot more than you realize,” I warned her. “Is there anything else?”

“Your father?—”

“Which one?” I snarked.

“Your father,” she continued, ignoring my remark. “Has an important deal closing soon. With a family-owned company called Fullman. They’re based in the midwest and very conservative. They believe in old-fashioned family values. It’s important to them and to us.”

“You’re joking right?” I barked out a laugh. “Family values, my ass. Try again.”

---