Page 14 of Cross the Line
“Let me just explain. Please…”
“No.” The guttural bark vibrates through the thick wood. “Go away. Get out of here.”
I’m about to reply when the ping of the elevator echoes behind me. Room service rounds the corner with a bottle of rum in her hand. Before she makes it near Jayden’s room, I go talk to her.
“Hi,” I greet the girl. She blinks up, startled, so I ease back a half-step. “My teammate ordered that. He’s upset after our loss, and he’s locked himself in his room…”
“I can’t let you in,” she says quickly, like she’s practiced it. “It’s against hotel policy.”
“Please, I need to make sure he’s okay.”
She lifts her chin, name tag flashing in the light. “I’m sorry, sir, but it’s against hotel policy.”
Fuck.“You don’t understand, Ella. He’s upset, and I have to check on him.”
“Is everything okay here?” Connie’s voice carries down the hall. She’s still in her Comets polo and navy slacks, looking all business.
“Yes,” Ella says, glancing at Connie’s lanyard and blanching a touch. “Your player was asking me to let him into someone else’s room, but it’s against?—”
“Hotel policy,” Connie finishes, smiling professionally as she lifts the bottle from Ella’s hand with a quiet, “Thank you. You may go now.” Then she crosses to Jayden’s door and knocks.
There’s nothing.
“Morrow, I have your liquor. If you want it, you’re going to have to let me in.”
“Go away,” he grumbles.
“Until I physically see that you are okay, I can’t do that.” She tilts her head at me, measuring. “If you don’t open up, I’m going to have the manager come up here and do it for you. Which means there will be paperwork and I will have to report to Coach Nilsson.”
Silence stretches forever. Then the lock clicks and the door cracks open. A slurry of growled curses escaping through it as it swings wide.
Any pain I felt prior to now pales to the all-body wrench that slits through my veins. Sharper and deeper than any blade I’ve ever used.
I was a fool for wishing my heart would give up. It was stupid to believe that it would keep fighting and keep beating through every storm.
“Voilà,” Jayden holds himself up in the doorway. “You’ve seen me now.”
Shirt tails loose, belt dangling, eyes glassy. A beautiful mess. My beautiful mess. I don’t hesitate. I slide his arm over my shoulders and walk him back into the room. He twists, bucks; I cinch him closer. The door shuts behind us, and I fold him in, like it’s physically possible for me to fit him inside me. To wrap my skin around his bones.
“I hate you,” he barks into my neck, grinding his fists into my sides.
I vaguely make out Connie leaving the bottle of rum on the table before she leaves.
Cradling Jayden’s head to my shoulder with one hand, I smooth the other down his back. “I’m sorry,” I tell him over and over again while he continues thumping his fists into my sides.
“You lied,” he bites at my shoulder. I let him. If hurting me translates what his words can’t carry, I’ll take it.
I’ll take anything and everything he gives me. Even if it hurts. Especially if it hurts. If I can just take away this pain I’ve caused him… I don’t care if he takes chunks out of me, as long as he knows that I’m here.
It doesn’t matter how much he hates me, what he says, or what he does; I’m not going anywhere.
“You’re a liar.” He rips free and stumbles into the small table behind him.
The bottle of rum Connie left tumbles to the carpeted floor, scattering the empty bottles from the minibar around it in a sharp clatter.
The quiet that follows is thick, as though the room is holding its breath.
Jayden perches himself on the table, bracing his hands on the edge so that he’s curled in on himself when he looks up at me again.
