Page 15 of Come Back to Me

“Okay.” I take a deep breath, feeling my heart beat slow down just a touch as I make my way closer to the basketball court. When I reach the front row, I crouch down, so Grayson doesn’t see me.

I can see him though.

He’s practicing layups, free throws, and three-pointers.

When Noah told me he was going to continue his path towards a basketball career in college, I wasn’t surprised. He’s always had a gift for this sport. The way he’d lose himself during a game was indescribable. He was the happiest with a basketball in his hands. From the looks of it, I don’t think that has changed.

I hop closer to the court like a frog chasing a fly.

My quads are going to hate me tomorrow.

I have a better view of him now.

His hair is dark brown like it always has been. His face looks the same, but his features have matured.

One thing for sure is he’s not the same lanky boy I met when we were twelve years old. He’s a lot more muscular than I remember.

He’s wearing his Sunset Cove University basketball jersey with his lucky number twenty-two stitched on the front and back.

My thighs feel heavy, so I stand up and muster up the courage to walk over to him. My feet feel heavier with every step I take. He’s intimidating up close like this.

You got this, Violet.

I stand in the middle of the basketball court.

His back is facing me as he prepares to shoot his three-pointer.

I lick my lips. “Hey, Gray.”

Grayson airballs the shot, turning around to face me.

I awkwardlysmile at him.

He stands there, staring at me in disbelief.

I knew this was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come here.

now

GRAYSON

I can’t believe what my eyes are seeing right now.

Violet Prescott is standing in front of me.

My Violet.

Well, she used to bemyViolet.

Now, she’s just the girl who broke my heart into a million pieces.

I feel like I took a time machine back to high school, but she doesn’t look anything like she did back then. Well, she does, but somehow she’s gotten more beautiful.

Her blonde hair is framing her face, the same way it used to. She’s wearing a gray sports bra and jean shorts that hug her thighs just right.

There’s a part of me that wants to kiss her and another part of me that wants her to leave and never come back.

I can’t get over what she did to me, but I haven’t stopped thinking about her. It’s frustrating and maddening.