Page 21 of The Rulebreaker
Listening to them discuss the schedules, the way they’ve built whole lives around men who are away more than they’re home during the season tugs at something I don’t like to examine very often. There was a time I imagined I’d know what that felt like. I was even anticipating it. But that was a different life. I made my choices, and he made his. There’s no point in sitting here and mourning them.
“I’m starving!” Lincoln shouts out from the living room.
Leighton’s jaw tightens. “I’m not sure whether Lincoln or I will survive his embarkment into pre-adolescence.” She stands and walks over to the archway. “We’ll feed them first and then continue our conversation?” She tells them all to come in, takes Ellis from Lake’s arms, and tells her, “You’re in charge. We’ll be in the family room.”
Lake groans, but then quickly tells Lincoln to only take one piece until everyone else has one.
I start to fix Hazel a plate, but Leighton gently sets her hand on my forearm. “Lake has it.”
The teenager nods and takes the plate for me. “Cheese or pepperoni, Hazel?”
Well, that feels nice.
Leighton laughs. “I’d never survive without her.”
Lake rolls her eyes, and the three of us and Ellis go into the family room.
As soon as we sit on the couch though, Leighton and Callie look at me with keen interest.
“So, did he call yet?” Callie’s nickname should be Calico, because her grin reminds me of a cat with a canary in its mouth.
The fact that my first thought is why would Decker call only proves that my attempt at moving on isn’t going especially well.
Chapter
Eleven
Decker
* * *
I climb the stairs onto the team bus burdened by the kind of tired I haven’t felt in weeks. I’m trying not to trust the feeling too much. In my experience, the nights that feel like turning points usually aren’t.
At least I’m the good kind of tired. The kind that bears more peace than anxiety. That’s not to say that my body won’t feel wound up before the next game. When did that all start for me? Maybe if I can figure out when, I can dissect the why, unravel it, and get back to being the confident player I’ve always been.
A few of the players give me a nod as they put in their AirPods and I make my way past.
Drew silently brews midway back, by the window.
“It’s still a long month. You might catch us.”
He flips me off.
I’m not usually the cocky type, but I feel the need to put Drew in his place. The only one of us who doesn’t is Hayes, which explains why he’s our leader.
I find my seat—second row from the back, on the aisle—and drop into it, still on a high from the win. I lean my head back and close my eyes, relieved to have had a good game.
“Hey,” Hayes says, and I squint one eye open. He stands at the edge of the aisle.
Easton is right behind him. “You get confused, Haymaker? My thighs are killing me, I gotta sit.” He tries to slide between Hayes and me, but Hayes puts his hand on Easton’s chest.
Easton glances down and back up with raised eyebrows.
“Do you mind if I grab your seat?” Hayes nods in my direction. “I need to talk to Goldie.”
Easton’s forehead creases. “So talk to him from your seat.”
Hayes stares at him. “It’s across the aisle.”
