Page 53 of The Comeback Pact

Well, I guess two someones did. If he even saw the game.

“Brooks!” an assistant coach yells from the open locker room. “Get your ass in here!”

I jump. His words suddenly spur me into motion, and I wrap my hand around my helmet even tighter and start to jog past my father, giving him a wide berth.

“Jesus fucking Christ. Really? Really?” he yells, making a scene. All those people who’d waited for me are watching this play out. The longer I jog, the more I want to retreat inside a suit of armor.

But my jersey isn’t even enough for this.

Of course he would show up to my game and make it all about him.

“Pick up a fucking phone, West!” he screams, his words still hitting me like bullets flying through the air. “Or don’t you know how to work one? I taught you better than that!” There’s a long pause, and then a grumble. There’s always a low grumble, his retreating war cry. “Dumb piece of shit.”

I can see him now, shaking his head like he can’t believe I’m his. I’ll always be a disappointment to him. Always.

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

Kenna

I pick my phone up.Nothing from West yet. Damn. How long does it take to get back from a game? Maybe the bus stopped off so the players could get something to eat. Or maybe their coach is long-winded.

It just seems like he should’ve been back an hour ago.

Unless…

Unless nothing, I scold myself. West Brooks is totally into me. I felt it in the way he practically tattooed his name on my lips, claiming me.

I stare up at my David Boudia poster, and I have to admit that he’s not doing it for me anymore. Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing unbecoming about him, but there’s everything so, so right with West in a Speedo. He probably gave all the grandmothers in the stands a minor heart attack.

I know I shouldn’t, but I pick up the phone again. When there’s nothing there, I check the volume to make sure it’s turned up. “Not in the Same Way” by 5SOS wraps around me as the lyrics punctuate out of my Bluetooth speakers. I quickly skip the song. “Lover of Mine” comes on next, and the slow melody makes me antsy.

Jesus. What’s wrong with me?

I start my Going Out playlist, which also masquerades as my Feeling Good playlist. I have some Lizzo on there, some T Swift, and Panic! at the Disco.

My phonepings, and I snatch it up to find a group message with some of my dive teammates. They’re all meeting at Molly’s. The device vibrates in my hand as more people confirm that they’re going. Molly’s is a cool little sports bar. They have greasy food, good tunes, and it’s within walking distance from the campus and my house.

My leg bounces up and down. The teammate in me feels like she should go, but I would rather hang out with West. I want to explore what this is between us.

It’s not wrong if I message him first, right? Totally not. Maybe I could tell him I’m going to hang out with my teammates until he gets back into town. Yeah. That sounds good. Not stalkerish or over-the-top, just letting him know what I’m doing. A sly voice inside me also says that it shows I’m not sitting around waiting for his text either, even though I so totally am. He, however, doesn’t need to know that.

I’m a strong, independent woman. Hell, I’m a warrior woman. Yes? Yes.

I pull up West on the school’s app and start typing.Hey, I got invited to go out with my teammates, so…

I backspace out of that and try again.

My teammates want to hang out at Molly’s. I’ll be there when you get back in town.

I stare down at the message, toying with my lip in a nervous habit that I haven’t been able to break. West’s number emblazoned across my chest catches my eye. Yes, I haven’t taken his jersey off yet, and it’s a good reminder that he made the first move. He may be West Brooks, but he wants this.

Okay, okay…

I delete the second message and start again.

McKennaK: My teammates want to hang out at Molly’s. Let me know when you get back into town.

There. Good. Done…and sent.

---