Page 115 of Game On
We’ve finally made it to Daytona, Florida, and today is the first day of competitions. The salty ocean breeze tickles my face as I stand on the balcony of my hotel room, watching the waves crash against the shore. It’s hard to believe that all our hard work and focus has come down to these next few days.
Ten months of training with Whitland’s team has led me here. It’s an odd feeling—accomplishment, pride, but also a grating uncertainty.
Things are still off between Hudson and me. We’ve been spending less alone time together, cooling our connection for the time being. Since I found that letter, it’s like there’s this invisible wall we’ve put up between us. The sort of tension that refuses to dissolve no matter how many pep talks I give myself.
It’s frustrating, though. We agreed to be open with each other, to not hold back our feelings, and then the first chance he gets, Hudson hides something so monumental. He kept me in the dark about his future, about something that would change everything for us. I’m angry. Really angry.
I’ve tried to explain away the hurt. To remind myself that he’s used to making decisions alone, and that hiding the letter isn’t as significant as it seemed in the moment. That he doesn’t require my input or opinion on his future in the first place, though it might have been nice for him to seek it.
Though I’ve been wanting—hoping for—us to stop pretending that we could ever just let go. And sure, it would have been nice for him to truly consider Oxford for both of our sakes. If it wasn’t a viable option, if it wasn’t on his mind, then he wouldn’t have applied in the first place. He wanted it. I wanted it, though I never would’ve pressured him to do it just for me.
A knock on the door interrupts my thoughts. It must be Gabi, back from breakfast without her room key. I swing the door open with a half-smile, ready to tease her about her forgetfulness. Instead, I’m met with the sight of two familiar faces. Molly and Olivia stand there, their grins wide, eyes sparkling with excitement.
“Surprise!” they shout in unison, pulling me into a group hug before I can even fully process their arrival. Laughter fills the room, a comforting echo of home that I’ve missed more than I realized.
“What are you two doing here?!” I manage to ask, my voice muffled against Olivia’s shoulder.
“How could we miss this moment? We’re so unbelievably proud of you,” Molly says, standing back slightly but keeping an arm looped around me. “And it’sDaytona, Ella.”
“When did you get here?”
“Late last night,” she tells me. “But we wanted to make sure you got your beauty rest, and we’ll be here for a couple of days after the competition ends.”
We finally break apart. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I blink them away quickly. “You didn’t have to travel all this way just for me.”
“Are you kidding?” Olivia scoffs, nudging my arm playfully. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world. Plus, we need some sunshine after the awful winter we’ve had.”
I laugh. “Well, you’ve picked the perfect place.”
Molly’s expression shifts slightly, enthusiasm dimming. “We were a bit surprised, though, to, um, to have found a certain someone lingering in the lobby?”
My brow crinkles. “Who do you mean?”
“Did you invite Jamie here?” she asks.
My heart drops into the pit of my stomach. “Jamie?” I echo. “Of course I didn’t invite him. We—we haven’t spoken in months. Not since before Christmas.”
Her eyes narrow with suspicion. “Well, he’s here. We saw the prick just now as we were checking in.”
I gulp. “You’re kidding.”
Olivia shakes her head. “Unfortunately not. He’s down there, all dark blond hair and that smirk we love to hate. You didn’t know anything about this?”
“Absolutely not,” I insist, and a wave of dizziness hits me all at once.
There’s another knock on the door. The three of us exchange glances, and my heart hammers in my chest. Olivia shrinks back, muttering something aboutdéjà vu, while Molly squares her shoulders, preparing for confrontation.
I swing the door open, and there he stands—Jamie, with that infuriatingly familiar grin plastered across his face. His hair falls messily over his forehead, and the sight of him here makes me a little sick.
“Ella,” he says, stepping forward as if to hug me. “Surprise.”
I step back instinctively, blocking him with an arm. “I don’t even want to know what you think you’re doing here.”
His smile falters, his eyes clouding with the hint of hurt. “Can’t a guy come and support his ex-girlfriend at one of the biggest competitions of her life?”
I fold my arms across my chest, trying to hide the shaking in my hands. “Not when that guy is you.”
He chuckles, though there’s a nervous edge to it. “I didn’t come here to cause trouble. I came because … well, I just couldn’t imagine not being here for you. After everything.”
