“You’re right.”
Her head snapped up. “What?”
Apparently, it wasn’t the answer she was hoping for. Trust me, I don’t like it either. He shook his head. “I’m going back to Kansas City in the spring when the season is over. I don’t know if I’ll be back. A long-distance relationship wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”
Her eyes glistened again, and Grant felt like a real jerk knowing he was the one who put those tears there this time. Now I’m just another guy in the long list of people who hurt you.
Em opened her mouth like she was going to say something, and Grant knew he didn’t have the resolve to fight against her if she suggested they try anyway. If she showed even a hint of wanting to be with him, in a heartbeat he would pull her against him, kiss her, and beg her not to go.
But then she pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Goodbye, Grant.”
Then she got up and walked out the front door without another word or even a glance back.
Emmeline
For the second time that day, Em was crying in her car. And the worst part? There wasn’t anyone left that she could talk to about it. Finn was in the middle of playing a soccer game she hadn’t watched a minute of because she was too busy making out with Grant and then getting her heart broken.
What was it about her that said, “please break my heart into a million pieces?”
When she’d said that thing about him having so many options, she didn’t think he was going to agree—not based on the way he’d pursued her the last few weeks.
Don’t act surprised. Your rule exists for a reason.
She’d thought he was different. She’d thought he’d fight for her—especially when she’d shared things with him that she hadn’t shared with anyone else.
Well, anyone other than Frida. Em was newly frustrated. Why did her best friend’s art teacher conference have to be the same weekend as her brother’s away game? The timing couldn’t have been worse.
Em wiped furiously at her cheeks, again, and got out of her car. Her current plan consisted of trying to catch the last half of the game. It wasn’t the most exciting thing in the world, but she hoped seeing her brother—even from 2,500 miles away—would make her feel better.
Her feet dragged as she walked up the flight of stairs to her second-story apartment. With a sigh, she threw her keys on the small table by her front door and went to her kitchen to look for something to eat.
Her kitchen was smaller than the one at the team house, but at least it had more personality. There were pictures on the refrigerator, and her copy of Pioneer Woman Cooks was still open to the recipe for chicken pot pie that she’d made two nights ago. Too bad there wasn’t any left. She could really use the comfort food instead of whatever frozen meal awaited her.
She tried not to think about the tacos she left behind as the aroma of “chicken fettuccine” filled the air. Or the way Grant had literally moaned when he took his first bite.
I hope he chokes on them.
After she finished nuking her meal into oblivion, she grabbed the small tray of food and went out to her living room. She pulled up the game and leaned back against her couch. She’d missed the first half, but at least she’d get to watch some of the game.
The Storm was down two goals as they started the third quarter. Em knew that had to be driving her brother crazy. Even though there were five other players on the field, he saw every ball that got past him as a way he let the team down.
One of the forwards from Oregon took a shot on goal. When Finn blocked it, Em jumped up in her seat. It was a great save. The camera lingered on where Finn pumped his fist in victory just before he barked out orders to other players.
As Em watched the game and finished her dinner, she realized that this was exactly what she needed. Even though she was alone in her apartment, there was some normalcy to watching her brother and the rest of the guys play. Silas made two back-to-back goals making it a tie game at the end of the third quarter.
The two teams were evenly matched, making it an exciting game to watch. So exciting, in fact, that she only thought about Grant twice in that time and only peeked at his Instagram once. Even though they weren’t officially dating, it stung like a breakup. It would take time for her to get completely over him. She knew that she couldn’t just turn on a soccer game and pretend like none of that night, or the weeks leading up to it, had ever happened.
The Storm called a time out at the start of the fourth quarter. While the ball was out of play, the camera went to different people in the crowd. Kids dressed in Oregon colors who waved. Couples who gave each other chaste kisses when they realized they were on the giant screen in the arena. Then a lone fan sitting by herself in a Storm jersey that looked awfully familiar.
Wait. Was that...Frida?
It couldn’t be. She was at a teacher’s convention that weekend. In Alabama. Or at least that’s what Frida had told her before she left. Em leaned forward to get a better look at the girl on the screen. She was looking down at the field, blissfully unaware that the camera was on her.
It was Frida—and she was wearing the limited-edition jersey that Em had spent a fortune on.
Em turned
