Stealing Home(51)

My lungs strained when I felt his stare on me. He didn’t know I knew. He was still looking at me like I meant something—like I was special. He was good at that. I supposed he had to be. None of us had known why we’d been hired—not the real reason. It wasn’t like he could just be an ass and we’d beg him to f*ck us sideways all season. Luke had to look at us like that. He had to make each of us feel special. He had to do that so we would all give him what he wanted without making it seem like some carefully crafted plan built to keep the star player happy and the team wins adding up.

Giving him the most passing glance I was capable of, I kept moving by his row. I didn’t miss the way he indicated the window seat empty beside him. I didn’t miss the damn tiny box with a bow on it resting on the empty seat.

I felt like someone was ripping my heart to pieces when I passed him. I could hear him twisting around in his seat, watching me. I could feel his stare as I wound farther down the aisle, putting me as far away from him as the plane would allow.

Just when I was about to take the empty row at the back of the plane, I changed my mind. Knowing Luke, once the plane was in the air, he’d come back to sit with me, and I wasn’t ready to talk to him. I’d have to soon, but not yet. The sting of it all was too fresh. I knew I’d say things I’d regret.

“Mind if I squeeze in beside you?” I stopped outside of the row Reynolds was stretched out in.

He slid off his big headphones, confusion forming on his face. “Be my guest, Doc.” He motioned at the empty seat beside him and stood to let me squeeze by.

The whole time, I felt Archer watching. As I turned to sit, our gazes met for just long enough I could see the same lines of confusion drawn on his forehead. To distract myself, I fought with the buckle, trying to get it adjusted to fit me, but being flustered and nervous was making basic things difficult.

“Do you need some help?” Reynolds asked.

“I’ve got it.”

“Sure about that?” he said when I started beating the two ends together when they refused to latch.

A moment later, I got them to cooperate. “I’ve got it,” I breathed, sagging into the seat.

A few minutes passed in silence except for my shifting every few seconds, trying to get comfortable. I was having a difficult time deciding if I wanted the window shade open or closed.

By the time we were in the air and I was still a shifting, undecided wreck, Reynolds leaned over. “Do you need to talk, Doc?”

Finally I found the right position I felt comfortable in, settling on the window being closed. “No,” I said, closing my eyes. “I need to forget.”





I’D SURVIVED THE plane. I’d survived the walk through the airport, when he’d tried coming up beside me and slipping something into my hand, by dodging into the women’s bathroom before he could get the little box in my grip. I’d survived the drive to the hotel. I’d survived the awkward moments when he’d tried to get my attention and I’d pretended not to notice. I’d survived the day.

I wasn’t sure I’d survive the night. I wasn’t sure I’d survive the hotel.

As soon as the team had gotten checked in, I’d disappeared into my room and hadn’t left it. The phone started ringing five minutes after I locked myself inside. Since my cell was still turned off, I guessed he figured he’d try to get a hold of me this way. After the third call went unanswered, I took the phone off the hook. I wasn’t ready.

My cell I turned back on because I couldn’t risk missing a team call, but I kept it on silent so his calls, which came in every fifteen minutes, wouldn’t echo through the room. I refused to look at the stream of texts coming in from him, or the ones I’d missed.

As a distraction, I flipped the television on to break the silence and the tone of my thoughts. It didn’t work.

It was just past eleven when a soft knock sounded outside my door. I’d just been heading into the bathroom when I froze. It wasn’t housekeeping on the other side.

“Allie?” His voice was quiet, but it seemed to echo through my room like a shout. “I know you’re in there. I heard you moving around. I’ve been standing outside of your room for ten minutes trying to figure out what the hell to say. Trying to figure out what the hell’s going on. Are you okay?” A thud came from the other side of the door, like he’d dropped his forehead into it. “Are we okay?”

When I didn’t reply in the form of words or opening the door, I heard him sigh. “Is this about the charity ball the other night? Are you upset about something I did? Mad that we didn’t go together? Because you know how I feel about that. I don’t care if people see us. I don’t care if everyone finds out we’re together. I’m tired of pretending.”

His words were so sincere, the ache in them so raw. My throat was burning from the emotions erupting inside me. It was unfair that the world had created a man who could master such sincerity when none existed beyond the fa?ade.

“Please talk to me. Please just open the door. Scream at me. Slap me. Just do something. This silent thing is killing me, Allie. This isn’t how two people communicate.” Another thud on the outside of the door. “Please just tell me what you’re upset about so I have the opportunity to explain myself or share my side of the story. I can’t fix this if I don’t know what’s wrong.”