Page 138 of Secret Obsession
After the shirt situation is sorted, I shoot a text to her and ask what they’re up to. If Violet’s on her way, chances are good we could just… go back to Crown Point. Or have a sleepover here.
Indie
NYC for the weekend.
With Mom and Dad?
Ya.
I scowl at her lack of information. But they probably won’t be back until tomorrow, so… I’ve got a full night of being away from Miles and everyone else. Better that than going back to the hockey house. Or worse, sleeping on Violet’s couch and pretending like I’m not intruding. Which I totally fucking would be.
My next stop is covering this horrible cross on my chest. Every time I catch the angry red skin out of the corner of my eye, it makesmeangry. My parents have an assortment of bandages in the linen closet, so I grab the largest one and plaster it over the cuts.
There.
Slightly better.
Except it still stings a little, and I probably should’ve added an antiseptic ointment. With my luck, it’ll get infected and scar.
I close myself in my room and crawl into bed. If Violet’s on her way, she can let herself in. And if she’s not… well, I’m exhausted. Mentally and physically.
In no time at all, my heart rate is slowing and my eyelids get heavier. Worries about Miles and love and loneliness flutter away, and I drift to sleep.
42
MILES
“You can’t.”
“Like fuck Ican’t, what is this bullshit?”
I shove Jacob, who seems to be the only one left not in the locker room. He was standing right outside the door to the parking lot, waiting for me like a freak. And now he’s blocking my fucking way.
“You’re going to throw your whole career down the toilet because of a little fight with your girl?” Jacob snaps, shoving me back. “She said she’s okay. You heard her, we all did. Now you need to get your head in the game.Literally.”
My whole body is vibrating, restless with the need to just—go. To get it through her thick skull that I’m not leaving her. And she’s not leaving me.
This is what I do, she said. When has she ever left anyone?
Knox broke up with her.
I’m still fucking here.
Who else?
“Whiteshaw,” Jacob barks. He grabs my shoulders and slams me against the wall. “Think about this. If she does leave you, if she flees the fucking country and never comes back, what do you have left?”
I work my jaw and spit out one word. “Hockey.”
“And if you chase her now, Coach Roake will ban you from ever setting foot in his rink again. You’ll be known as the flake.” He scowls. “And then you’ll have no girl and no hockey, andthenwhat will you have?”
Understanding dawns. This is what he’s going through.
This is what he’s had to grapple with for the last miserable year of his life, because the professor he became addicted to up and left him without a trace. So he picked hockey, because there was no other choice.
Willow isn’t going to do the same to me.
I know that in my bones—I just need to break through her fear of relationships and commitment and love. And she needs to know what love actually is.
