Page 21 of Pucked Together

"Nothing," She digs frantically into her purse. "I want for you to leave me the hell alone." She finds her keys, opens the car, and gets in with one fell swoop. "You, Trevor, anyone else that wants to kill my vibe. Just stay the hell away from me. Un-fucking-believable." She slams the car door and peels out, too, leaving me in a cloud of dust.

And feeling like a complete and utter idiot.

The voice on the other end chuckles.

"She sounds like a handful. Just tell her you like her, man."

I shut the door to my room after making sure nobody is lurking in the hallway. Izzy isn't home. Neither are the guys.

"What? I don't. She's a total brat."

"Yeah, so much of a brat that you can't even bring yourself to admit it," my brother teases.

"Rowan, seriously. I need to get outta here. This living situation isn't working out. Did they give you a date yet for your release?"

"No, but what you need to do is just make your move already."

My brother is impossible.

"You know I'm not going to do that,” I say.

"Because your best friend told you to protect her? So you pretend you're her boyfriend in front of her ex instead of punching the stupid guy."

"Row, this isn't the yard. We can't just solve things by punching or shanking the next person that pisses us off."

"Yeah, yeah. Sounds like I need to teach you a thing or two."

"And I already told you I don't like her," I continue.

"Great, then, can we please talk about anything else? You're the one that keeps bringing her up."

I think he's right. In the last few phone calls, I've mentioned her quite a bit. The woman is impossible to escape. I haven't even asked him about his day.

"Shit, how are you doing, brother?"

He sighs into the phone. "Same ole, same ole, little B."

I hold the phone tighter against my ear, missing having him near. Rowan's my only sibling. The big B to my little B. The Balinger brothers. Soon to be reunited again.

"I'll come visit soon.” I vow. “Our first preseason game is next week, and Coach has us practicing double time."

"Ryker, how many times do I have to tell you? Live your life. You know I'm super proud of you. Always will be, little B."

"Thanks."

I hate to think my brother hasn't seen me play a single professional game. I'm not getting any younger, and with rookies like Sincaid coming into the picture, a few of us veteran players will slowly be phasing out over the next few years.

I hear banging on his end, and someone yells, "That's time! Hang up!"

Rowan sighs again. "Laters, brother."

The line goes dead.

Ever since the storm hit, I haven't had a chance to visit Rowan, and I feel like the biggest asshole. It's thoughts of him. My mom. My broken family that usually keep me up at night.

I went into professional sports to try to make a name for ourselves—to change things for the better for us. But by the time I had my big break, everything had already gone to shit.

Too little, too late. Story of my freakin life.