Page 30 of Broken Play
As she comes out of his embrace, he extends his hand. "Bodhi Creed. We did a commercial together a few years ago."
The smile on my face is fake. "We did. Sutton?"
She dips her chin, slowly bringing her gaze to mine. "Bodhi's taking me straight there. I appreciate your willingness, but you have interviews early in the morning."
I look down at my feet, and I feel my lips pulling to the side. "Okay, just text me and let me know how she's doing and if you need anything." My voice trails off, and I'm not sure I even finished my thought.
"I will. Thanks for listening on the plane."
All I can do is nod because I'm too busy watching Bodhi throw his long arm over her shoulder and cradle her body to his.
Sure. What are employees for?
"I hope she pulls through. Anna is obviously very important to you." I see a driver holding a sign that reads, "Mr. Greyson O'Ryan." "My ride is here," I say, brushing against her arm as I walk past the tennis duo.
The black Cadillac SUV smells brand new as I throw my overnight bag onto the seat beside me. "The Barrington Hotel."
"Yes, sir."
Clenching my fists as I stare out the window at the bustling city, I'm determined to shake off this foreign feeling. I tell the driver to go to the hotel so I can drop off my luggage and then ask him to take me to the closest place with a pulse, women, and whiskey.
Yeah, maybe that's what I need—a night out, some music, maybe a few drinks—anything to burn this acid taste out of my system. I have no trouble getting into the club. I pose for photos with the bouncer and then the employees who walk me down a VIP hallway. The thrum of the bass swallows me, and I lean against the bar while women drift over, laughing, tossing their hair, and trying to catch my eye. But none of it sticks. Every smile feels wrong, every touch empty. No matter how loud the music gets or how many numbers get slipped into my pocket, I'm left feeling hollow, longing for someone whose laughter is still echoing in the back of my mind.
None of them are Sutton.
SIXTEEN
SUTTON
"Here. Black, two creams, and two sugars, so it's not really black," Bodhi says with a lopsided smile. "Did the doctor come back?"
Shaking my head, I sip the coffee and let the warm liquid slide down my throat, hoping it will soothe my nerves, knowing it will do the opposite. I've never been a big coffee drinker, but I do indulge on occasion. "Thanks for calling me. I don't know how to repay you."
"Come on, you don't owe me anything. I know she wants you here, and I... I do too." There's an underlying meaning in his words, or at least that's how it sounds to me. "We've been friends forever, and I want that back, Sutton."
My lids feel heavy, and they fall closed. He sounds like the old Bodhi from when we were coming up in tennis together. It's the A-side of his personality. I don't want to think about his B-side. He sits beside me on the small couch in Anna's room, absent of life. How does anyone heal in a place that has zero warmth?
Visitors aren't allowed in here, but Bodhi worked hismagic since Anna's parents live overseas. The nursing staff made an exception when he flashed his brilliant white smile and tossed his hair. The nurses fell for it hook, line, and sinker.
Anna shifts in her bed, moaning with every small movement. In the middle of the night, a nurse checks her vital signs. Bodhi, asleep, caresses my leg with his eyes closed, and I scurry to the bathroom, unable to decipher what's happening between us. Does he think we're like grains of sand and that all the mistakes can just slip through his fingers, forgotten?
I peek out the door, and Bodhi and Anna are still asleep, so I go in search of a vending machine. Pushing through the big double doors, I find the holy grail of vending. It has those soft cookies like your grandma would make. Not mine, of course. I think I've seen my grandparents on both sides only a handful of times.
As I walk around the waiting room, sinking my teeth into the cookie, I stare out of the hospital window at the city. It's the middle of the night, and half of the lights are on in the buildings, a stark contrast to the darkness on Greyson's deck. There wasn't anything for miles except for barns and animals. In Texas, the sky is vast and tranquil. I find myself wanting to be back there.
I check my phone, and notifications from Greyson are stacked on top of each other. I tap them to open.
1:16 a.m.
Greyson: How is Anna?
1:31 a.m.
Greyson: How are you?
1:35 a.m.
Greyson: I'm at The Barrington Hotel if you need me.
