Page 85 of Thunderstruck
Sage’s wedding is on Sunday. Here in Portland. Something in me wonders if Sage planned it that way, knowing I would be here for a game, though I can’t imagine what she hopes to accomplish.Shebroke up withme. And I’m over her.
“Doing the whole solo room thing still?” Wyatt asks, stopping next to me on his way to the elevator. I figured I would let the rest of the team get settled before I get my key, so I’m standing off to the side and trying not to think about my ex when Carissa is upstairs in her shared room with Mel.
I chuckle. “I’d rather pay for my own room than have to share with one of you.”
“I don’t blame you. I’d do the same if I could afford it, but no.” Wyatt wrinkles his nose and watches Wilson, one of the locks on the team, fumble with his bag and lose half his clothes across the lobby floor. “I get to bunk with that.”
“Hey, Wilson is our best tackle,” I argue.
“Oh, he’s great on a pitch. Not so much in a hotel room. The man’s the messiest person I’ve ever met.” He sighs and starts heading over to help Wilson, talking to me as he goes. “If you’re ever feeling extra generous, Evanson, feel free to book me a single room like yours next time.”
“Don’t count on it!”
Truth be told, I’ve thought about paying for rooms for the whole team more than once, but it has always felt like trying to buy my way into their good graces, and that would have backfired. I don’t think my money alone can do me any good, but I wish it could.At least this is a Hawthorne hotel, which is on the nicer end of things. We aren’t always this lucky.
When the rest of the team has checked in and headed upstairs, I make my way to the desk right as my phone rings.Freya.I give my name to the desk attendant, then answer the phone.
“I’m not going.”
Freya laughs. “Am I that predictable?”
I roll my eyes, tugging the hood of my sweatshirt over my head as if that might hide me from this conversation. “The wedding is in two days, and you haven’t said anything about it in almost a week.”
“Yes, well, I have been busy. But now I must know if I need to alert our pilot of my intention to come to Oregon or if Carissa will be your date.”
“I’m not going,” I repeat, nodding a thank you to the concierge and taking my key. The sooner I get upstairs, the better.
“You have made friends?”
“Does Carissa count?”
“No.”
I hit the button for the elevator and let out a deep sigh. “I figured. Moxie?”
“He was your friend before I made my edict; therefore, he does not qualify. Cole, I thought you had a plan. Derek said—”
“From my understanding of your terms,” I interrupt, “I simply had to try. I’ve done that.” But I don’t think I can say any of the guys would consider me a friend. A teammate? Sure. Captain? Getting there. But friend? I’m not sure that will ever happen.
“Coleman, if you had tried, truly, you would have succeeded.”
The elevator opens, and I slip inside, grateful that there’s no one else in the lobby wanting to go up with me. This isn’t a conversation I want people overhearing. “Freya, do I need to remind you that friendship is a two-way thing? Whatever has changed on my end, it doesn’t say anything about how the guys see me. I’m not paying the consequences of their choices.”
Freya lets out a heavy sigh. “You are complicating this,” she says as the door slides open on the third floor.
“And you think I’m more likable than I…am.” My words trail off when I realize Carissa is standing in front of me in a striped blue-and-white swimsuit that shows off…everything. “Gotta go,” I say into the phone and hang up, stepping back to let Carissa inside.
Carissa presses her lips together as she joins me right before the doors close again. Though she has a white hotel towel slung over her shoulder, I still have a full view of the bikini that exposes most of her fair skin. “Are you going down?” she asks, her cheeks glowing pink.
My mouth has gone dry, so I nod.
Carissa’s eyes jump to my bag. “You sure about that?”
“I’m exactly where I want to be.”
She bites her lip, but her smile tugs the pink flesh from between her teeth as she meets my gaze.
“That’s against the rules, Paxton,” I growl, dropping my bag and stepping forward. I back her into the corner of the elevator without taking my eyes off her. I’ve been good all week, enduring the fifteen-minute drive to and from practice without touching her. I’ve done my best not to watch her whenever she’s on the field with us, bossing the guys around. I’ve resisted showing up at her apartment every night just to be around her.
