Page 204 of The Pucking Coach's Daughter

I don’t want to be here.

I don’t want to do this.

I don’t want…

I don’t…

I…

sixty-two

oliver

There’s no trace of Sydney. It takes cornering Carter outside the locker room—where he absolutely can’t slip away from us—to realize that she texted him. He told her to go to his place, although he seems sheepish when he tells us his apartment door is locked.

So she’s waiting for him outside it?

If she decided to wait at all.

“What’s going on?” Carter asks. “She just mentioned…”

His gaze goes to Penn. I glance his way, too, although so far he’s kept his mouth shut. Surprising for him, since he usually tells me everything. But now, with both of us glaring at him, he shudders.

He slowly pulls his phone out and goes to an app.

There’s one conversation there, a long thread of texts back and forth.

Sydney.

I take it, going all the way up to the top. Where she asks him who he is, and he doesn’t answer. When he finally settles on L. For Lucas, his fucking middle name. How he doesn’t give her any more information about himself.

How they converse in lies.

My heart beats too fast for my liking, and I have to steel myself against throwing his phone on the floor and stomping it to pieces.

Wordlessly, I hand it to Carter.

He throws it at Penn’s chest—which I guess is better than smashing it. He shakes his head at Penn and brushes past us. We follow.

“Don’t hate me,” he says quietly, just to me. “I started talking to her when we still were supposed to hate her. I thought I would be digging up dirt on her or—I don’t know. I don’t know, okay? It went from being this fun game to… I looked forward to her texts. I know how insane that sounds, but then?—”

“You could’ve told her,” I growl. “You could’ve come clean any time. And she finds out… what did you do to her, Walker? When you went to the bathroom… you forget you’re supposed to use the men’s restroom and wind up with her instead?”

Carter whips around. “What?”

“I—”

“He’s the one who put the plug in her ass,” Carter suddenly says. “She was wearing it when I got there. I don’t—” He shakes his head. “Damn, I’m a fucking idiot. I thought you put it in her then. But you fucked her ass, plugged her, left her there only to come back later.”

“Pinche cabrón,” I swear. Fucking idiot, is right. But not directed at Carter. No, the words are for my best friend, who I’m pretty sure I can’t be more disappointed in.

They set me up that night—I don’t regret that. It was hot. But the whole situation, the whole time, she thought there was another guy involved.

I don’t have any more words.

We get in the car. It doesn’t hurt to walk or remain upright, but lowering myself brings a grimace to my lips. Penn drives back to Carter’s apartment, all of us silent. I’m not really sure what else I’m supposed to say to him besides fucking cursing.

Sydney is mine. No matter what she asked of us before the game. Her initials are carved into my skin, for fuck’s sake. There’s no way I’m going to let her go, not when it feels like she’s finally starting to forgive me. Penn can screw up his own relationship with her—not mine.