Page 59 of The Save

“Maddie—”

“It’s fine.” I kept my eyes lowered and pulled my shirt over my head.

Then Chase was there behind me, pulling the fabric down as I turned. “What are you thinking?”

I gave him a small smile, my eyes stinging. “That this has been . . . the best weekend I’ve had in a long time.”

Chase smoothed my hair, tucking my curls behind my ear. “But?”

“But now we’re going back home. Where I’m going to be a student again. And you’re going to still be a faculty member.” He pressed his lips together and gave a small nod. “And I’m going to be gone for the?—”

“You’re not sharing a room with Axel, are you?”

I laughed. “No. Why? Are you jealous?”

His jaw ticked. “I don’t like it when he calls you Maddie girl.”

My smile widened. “What else don’t you like?” I couldn’t get enough of this, but it certainly wasn’t helping the situation.

“If he could stop feeling you up every time you study with him, that’d be great.”

I stifled a laugh. I wanted to push him back on the bed and pick up where we left off, and that realization sobered me. We only had a few weeks.

I shoved my hands in my pockets so I didn’t reach for him. “What do you want?”

He looked away, then dragged a hand over his jaw. “I don’twantany more, Maddie.”

I frowned. While I hadn’t expected him to drop to one knee and declare,“You! All I want is you!”I also hadn’t expected that. “What do you mean?”

He leaned back on the desk. “Wanting doesn’t make a difference. It either is or it isn’t.”

The words landed like a slap. It took me a minute, but I could see the truth in them. At the same time— “Why try then? Why work for anything if any possibility is acceptable?”

“I didn’t say it was acceptable.”

That sadness in his eyes returned, and I didn’t need to ask any other questions to understand. Chase had fought for what he wanted and lost. He’d pushed through incredible struggles to play hockey professionally, and now it was taken from him.

I thought about the Rhodes, about my academic dreams, and Shar’s comment in the parking lot. Was this where we all were headed? Had we all bought into the idea that if we worked hard enough, dreamed big enough, then someday we’d get where we wanted to go, but really, most of us would stop short?

“When do you submit your application?” Chase asked.

“End of summer.” Again, he didn’t have to say it.

He nodded. “And you’re going to study abroad.” From the second Chase had opened that door to Coach Blakely, my brain had been running behind the scenes doing the damn math.

Rate of emotional freefall in Chase’s gravity: approximately 9.8 m/s². Time left in the semester: seven weeks, give or take. Probability of Chase staying on campus: close to zero, given the way he was talking, which meant I didn’t even have to take into account my own potential moving date to know that the probability of heartbreak was at least 87%. Margin of error: +/- 4% depending on how vivid that makeout session remained in my brain. Standard deviation of rational thought: skyrocketing.

Chase tugged at my waist, curving his hand around my neck and pulling my head to rest on his chest.

And just like that, the next number surfaced.

Probability of me falling in love with Chase Wilson if this continued: 100%.

Probability of surviving it when we inevitably broke things off?

Approaching zero.

I didn’t have to think about the repercussions to his job or my opportunities with the committee or Douglas. Those just piled onto the already insurmountable data.

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