Page 97 of Hot Shot
“Did you get fined? For the fight.”
“No.”
“That’s good. How was dinner with your brother? I noticed he jumped into the fight with you. The fans around us were speculating the rest of the game as to why that was.”
“It went well. We talked about some stuff. I don’t know where or what our relationship is going to be, but we’ll get there.” I take a deep breath. “After the fight, I realized that whatever resentment I was holding against him for being our father’s chosen one was stupid. He jumped into a fight against his own teammate because I needed his help. Not that the fight was the only reason I forgave him, but it sealed the deal.”
“I’m glad, hot shot. You deserve all the people on your side you can get.” She pats my chest gently before leaning back against me.
I’m at a loss for words so I simply pull her into my arms and breathe in her sweet scent. We sit in silence for a while until I hear her phone ringing from the other room.
“I should probably go see who that is. Aunt Judy and Curtis left for a cruise this morning so I’m house-sitting,” she says climbing out of the bed.
She’s gone for a few minutes, and I’m about to go find her to make sure everything is alright when she comes back into the room.
“I have to go,” she says, her voice shaking and her face pale.
“Everything alright?”
“I don’t know.” She pauses. “That was my dad.” She wrings her hands. “It’s kind of an emergency. He’s fine. He’s not hurt or sick or anything. It’s something else . . .”
“Want me to drive you?”
“No. No. It’s okay. I’ll call you later,” she says with a shake of her head.
“Okay, if you’re sure. Let me know everything is okay.” I pull her into my arms and kiss her. She nods.
I follow her out of the bedroom and watch as she grabs her bags and, with a wave of her hand, leaves.
I sink into the couch. Something’s not right. I wish she’d told me what was going on.
Why didn’t she want me to come with her?
I grab the remote and turn on the television, hoping it will distract me from all these thoughts swirling around in my head.
But I can’t focus.
My phone starts ringing. I pick it up, hoping it’s Madison telling me what’s going on, but it’s Coach.Why is Coach calling me?
“Hey, Coach. What’s up?”
“Hey, Hunter. Sorry to bother you.”
“No problem,” I say slowly.
He sounds off. Like something’s wrong. I immediately worry that something has happened to one of our teammates, and he’s calling to tell me.
“Can you come down to the arena? There’s a bit of a situation.”
“Okay. What kind of a situation?” I’m on my feet, walking to my bedroom to find my clothes.
“A media situation. We’re in my office when you get here.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I tell him.
“See you soon,” he says and hangs up.
There’s not a lot of traffic on the road at this time of day, and I make it to the arena in record time, my heart racing the entire way.
