Page 15 of Replay
“I’m with someone,” I breathe out, hating how the words sound coming out of my mouth, when I’m talking to him. It feels wrong.
Hawke stills and his hands clench at his sides. “Break up with him.”
I shake my head, refusing his demand. We’re right back at square one. The same beginning for all of our issues. He broke up with me. We’ve been apart for years. “I’m not going to do that. We’re not together, Hawke. You made sure of that. Twice.”
I back up the path, ready to head home and forget about this afternoon. I need to escape and get far away from Hawke and the accusatory look in his eyes. I hate the guilt in my stomach, and the way my heart pinches painfully at the shocked look in Hawke’s eyes. Right before the curve on the trail that leads to the bus stop, he calls my name. I turn slowly, fear slithering up my spine. How dare he demand I break up with Jax. I’m not afraid of Hawke, but I am afraid of what he makes me feel. I hate the effect his words have on my body and that heat shimmers in my core because of them.
“You don’t have the right, Hawke,” I tell him, my arms wrapping around my waist.
His eyes narrow, and his voice comes out harsh, heated. “Break up with him. I’ll give you a week to be gentle with his feelings. End it or I’ll end it for you.”
hawke
. . .
Five-thirty in themorning and my phone finally pings with the information I requested from Falcon last night. My fingers tap the screen and I open the file.
Jaxson Kellen.
Goes by Jax.
Born and raised in the state of Michigan.
Has been in the starting lineup on the men’s hockey team since his freshman year, he’s a junior, same as me.
Right Wing position.
Usually hangs out with his teammates and up until five months ago had been living the single life. Notorious for not having girlfriends but casually dating.
The next clip is an image of the guy who is currently claiming my girl and when I open it, my jaw clenches. Objectively as a man I can say he’s a good-looking guy. Clean-cut, dark hair, dark eyes, and you can tell he grew up in the Midwest with his skin tone missing the same bronzed tan that I’m used to when living in the southern states. He’s also 6’0”, which makes him four inches shorter than me, and I know my girl likes that I still towerover her when she wears her skates or on the random times she’s worn high heels. My fingers fly over the screen on my phone and I text my brother back.
ME: Is this all you got?
Three seconds later, a new text arrives to the group chat that includes Falcon, Riggs and me.
FALCON: Ok stalker much. I got all the basic deets I could get. What more did you want?
RIGGS: Who?
FALCON: Who? The guy my brother is making me dig up info on.
ME: I asked for dirt that I can use on him, not for his Snapchat bio.
FALCON:
RIGGS: Which guy?
FALCON: Keep up, Big-Rig. You need to get this one calmed down.
ME: Emmarys is seeing someone. I need dirt on him to convince her to break up with him.
RIGGS: She’s dating someone?
FALCON: Do you not go to the same university?
RIGGS: Excuse me. We just moved in and I spent most of the day figuring out my classes. How the hell have you had time to track your girl down already, Hawke?
ME: I couldn’t waste more time. Too much time has already gone by.
