Home > Books > Those Three Little Words (The Vancouver Agitators, #2)(132)

Those Three Little Words (The Vancouver Agitators, #2)(132)

Author:Meghan Quinn

“Dude, who do you have feelings for?” I wrack my brain for a clue, anyone he might have run into, fucking anything, but I’m coming up short, and I can’t be sure if it’s because he hasn’t said much to me or because I’ve been so caught up in my life, that I haven’t been paying attention.

Maybe a bit of both.

“Nothing we need to worry about. It’s probably just a stupid crush that I’ll get over. Just drop it.”

“Posey—”

“Seriously, Eli, drop it.” And there it is, my first name. Whenever we pull that out, we know it’s serious.

“Okay, but if you need me, you can talk to me. I know I’m going through my own shit, but I’m here for you.”

“I know,” he says. “I appreciate that. And you swear, you’re not about to do something stupid?”

“I was going to grab a drink and a snack, but now I’m thinking maybe not. Is it crawling with people in the lobby?”

“There’s no way you’ll be able to walk a few steps without being bombarded. Try the vending machine.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll do that.” I pat him on the shoulder. “Thanks. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I start walking toward the vending machines when he calls out to me, “Hey, Hornsby?”

“Yeah?” I look over my shoulder.

“I have a bad feeling about tomorrow.”

“Yeah . . . I think everyone does.”

He slowly nods and walks away.

I take the next five minutes to wrestle over what I want from the vending machine, and I settle on a water—boring—and a bag of Dot’s Pretzels. When I reach my room again, I kick off my sandals, lie down on my bed, and pick up my phone to see another text from Penny.

I swipe my phone open and read it.

Penny: I’m sorry to keep bothering you, but I just want to make sure we’re okay.

Just what I thought, she’s worried.

But I don’t know how to respond to her. I don’t know how to act other than fucking pine over the damn girl. I can’t leave her hanging, though. So, I send her a quick text back.

Eli: Sorry, busy prepping for tomorrow. Trying to focus.

I feel bad. Every other away game, I’ve always talked to her, but I’m the jackass who can’t seem to make sense of things, despite trying to work through them with my therapist. He agrees with me: trying something new with someone important isn’t the best idea.

My phone beeps.

Penny: Oh, sure. Sorry. I’ll leave you alone. Good luck with the end of the series.

Groaning, I toss my phone to the side and push my hands through my hair in pure irritation.

Why is this so damn difficult?

Probably because you have abandonment issues and refuse to let anyone else in your life that you could lose.

Yup, that seems accurate.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

ELI

Blakely: You’re an asshole.

I stare at my phone, wholeheartedly agreeing with her text.

I am an asshole.

I ended the conversation with Penny last night rather abruptly and haven’t texted her since, and the text from Blakely tells me Penny was affected.

I text her back.

Eli: I know.

I scoop a pile of eggs into my mouth while I watch the three dots on the screen, taunting me, preparing me for a response.

Blakely: Going dark on her, especially now. You’re all kinds of messed up, Hornsby. Don’t worry, I’m picking up the pieces you keep breaking off her.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and let out a heavy breath.

Fuck.

Eli: It’s not what you think.

Blakely: You don’t WANT to know what I think, especially about you. I should never have left her alone with you on your birthday. I’ll forever regret that.

Eli: Probably the right verdict.

Blakely: Seriously, what’s wrong with you?

Eli: Still trying to figure that out.

Blakely: Do me a favor, at least call her today. Out of all days, call her today.

Call her.

Hear her voice?

Dip into the one thing that I crave . . . no. I can’t.

I set my phone down and finish eating my eggs. Focus on the game. We have to win tonight.

We can’t lose. If we do, we’re out. That’s the end of the season, and if the season ends, then I have to face the one thing I don’t want to right now: my feelings for Penny.

The locker room is eerily quiet as we prepare for our game. We’re an hour away from the puck drop and are now finishing treatments, warming up, and attempting to get our heads in the right mindset.

I haven’t spoken to Penny since her last text last night, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Should I have spoken more to her? Did I do the right thing?