God, I feel sick.

  He nods, understanding where I’m going. “Right.”

  I wait for him to set the record straight on that fact, but he doesn’t. I guess he already said he’s not dating anyone, and that’s good enough for now.

  “I looked you up in the beginning too. I mean, you gave me no choice in the matter, really. You gave Lele a wrong number. I tried to call you after I left.”

  I can’t meet his eyes. “I thought it was for the best then.”

  “And now?”

  I scrunch my brows, trying to figure out what he means.

  “What do you want now, Birdie? You want me to disappear again?”

  I don’t respond one way or the other because truthfully, I don’t know. I’ve survived this long without him, so maybe that’s a sign that I shouldn’t go back down this road.

  No!

  C’mon!

  Are you aiming to merely survive?

  I’m so desperate for more, I wrap my arm around my stomach to keep from tumbling headfirst into Ben and demanding he remind me of what it used to feel like between us, back when I had something in life to look forward to.

  For so long, I’ve deluded myself into thinking I should be solely focused on school. I could easily spend my entire life inside the Cahill Center, and the faculty and staff would applaud me for it.

  Push him away.

  Leave now. Just like last time.

  Instead, my lips press together.

  I have no idea how he interprets my silence before he continues, determined, “Come to my game tomorrow night. Lele will be there. She wants to see you.”

  Now I know he’s just being nice. I don’t know why Leanna would want to see me. She must know by now that I gave her a wrong number before she left town. I hated myself for doing that, but it seemed inevitable. I knew she was going to pass it along to Ben. I knew a continued friendship with her would be a continued friendship with them all, and how was I supposed to deal with that? I needed a clean break, so that’s what I made for myself.

  He stands and takes a lanyard out of his back pocket. Dangling at the bottom, there’s a plastic sleeve covering a special gold-leafed badge.

  “For the private box,” he says, handing it over to me.

  I take it, but still, I tell him, “You should give it to someone else.”

  A beat passes—too long, and I lift my head only to realize he was waiting for me to muster up the courage to look at him.

  “There’s no one else,” he says, meeting my gaze with brown eyes so warm I melt into them.

  The courtyard doors open, and I turn to see the huge man from earlier standing in the doorway, the man I now realize must be Ben’s security guard. It makes sense. He’s slightly older, wearing that tidy all-black suit. He’s got an earpiece, and I suspect the discreet bulge on his right hip is a gun.

  “Tomorrow,” Ben says before walking away, but I make no promises.

  I sit on that bench, staring down at the badge, ignoring my lunch until it’s time for me to head back into Cahill. I keep my encounter with Ben a secret from my friends. It isn’t completely intentional. At first, I was in a daze when I arrived back at our shared office. I didn’t know quite where to start, how to condense everything into manageable bites without overwhelming them. Then, the opportunity just passed—we had to get to work and I had assignments to grade and post before the end of the day. I tucked the lanyard and badge into the bottom of my book bag and mostly forgot about it until later that night.

  Tomorrow, Ryan, Kayla, and Julia will all leave town for spring break. Ryan’s road-tripping to Portland for a friend’s wedding and somehow convinced Julia to go with him, strictly as friends, but come on. Kayla is headed home to see her parents in San Diego. I was planning to spend the next ten days in my office, hunched over my desk, trudging forward. I convinced myself I was lucky to have so much undivided time to work on my thesis. No matter that I’m already way ahead compared to my peers, or that Professor Olmsted forbade me from reaching out to her via email or text over the week under the guise that it would convince me to leave my office. I think her exact words were, “Go! Get out of here! Take a few days off, for Pete’s sake!”

  “Oh my god, where is that green Revolve dress I wore last week?” Kayla asks, rifling through a pile of clothes on her bed.

  This is a near-daily occurrence. Her side of the room is always so messy it’s a wonder she ever finds anything.

  “Here!” she says, yanking a green sock out of the bottom of the pile. “No. Dammit.”

  “Do you really need it?”

  She levels me with a sharp-eyed glare. “Of course I do. I’m going home.”

  “…to hang out with your parents,” I remind her.

  “Yes, which means Daniel might be home too. You never know. So I have to bring that dress because it matches my eyes and Daniel used to always tell me I had nice eyes.”

  “Is Daniel the guy who broke your heart in high school?”

  “Yes. The one I utterly despise.”

  “Interesting.”

  “No. Not interesting. Don’t fill your head with ideas. This is simply a Must Be Hot When Facing My Enemy situation. Nothing more. Can you imagine if I ran into him wearing a t-shirt?”

  I gasp in feigned horror, and she rolls her eyes.

  “Anyway, are you sure you don’t want to come with me? My parents loved having you stay over winter break. My mom won’t shut up about how nice you were. I swear, you pick up one dirty dish in that house and it’s all Raelynn this, Raelynn that.”

  “Tell your parents thank you for the invite, but I’m going to hang back here.”

  “Ugh. Depressing. Tell me you aren’t going to work.”

  “I’m going to work.”

  She groans like she’s been shot then falls dramatically back onto her messy bed. “Why do you do this? Why don’t you go out? To a BAR? Meet a MAN!?” She pops up onto her elbows. “Will you let me activate Tinder on your phone? I’ve carefully curated all the photos I think you should use on your profile and have them saved in a folder on my computer. There’s a bikini picture and everything.”

  “Are you serious?”

  She rears back, as if offended that I would think she was kidding. “Dead serious. When you told me how long it’s been since you’ve had sex, I considered it a moral imperative to help you out.”

  “It hasn’t been that long.”

  She purses her lips, and I blush and look away.

  “If I go more than a month…” Her eyes go wide. “It ain’t pretty. Remember how snappy I got last semester during my dry spell?”

  “Yes. I almost moved out of this room.”

  “Exactly. Now imagine what it’s going to feel like for you to get laid after all this time. Your head’s going to explode!”

  I laugh and shake my head. “You’re ridiculous. I don’t need sex the way you do.”

  She unveils a sly grin. “Oh that’s funny considering the recent search history on your computer.”

  “KAYLA!”

  “What? I needed to Google something and couldn’t find my laptop under all my crap.”

  I flip over and bury my face in my pillow.

  “What? You had quite a good selection going. No judgment here.”

  “STOP.”

  “Oh my god! Why are you such a prude?! It’s just sex! Maybe if you were getting some, you’d loosen up a little.”

  “Are you leaving yet?”

  “Not until tomorrow morning.”

  “Shame.”

  “You’ll miss me, admit it.”

  “Not even one tiny bit.”

  “Oh right, of course you won’t—you’ll have your computer to keep you company.”

  I throw my pillow, and it’s immensely satisfying that it hits her square in the face. She grabs it and tucks it under her arms.

  “All joking aside…do me a favor and get out of this room at least for one night while we’re all gone. Please.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Raelynn

  I couldn’t very well ignore everyone in my life telling me what a sad sack I am, and I suppose it’s only fair that I take Ben up on his offer and attend the game. It’s just a basketball game. It’s not like there are any strings attached. It’s not like I spent four hours this afternoon picking out the perfect outfit, which is slightly ridiculous considering I only have the one basketball shirt that Kayla got me, so I was really only deciding if I wanted to pair it with jeans or jean cutoffs. I went with the shorts and my trusty pair of cowboy boots. Los Angeles is playing the San Antonio Spurs tonight, so in a way, I’m reppin’ both my home state and my current one.

  I spent longer on my hair than I would ever admit to another living soul. It consists of perfect blonde beachy waves that I coaxed into existence nowhere near a beach. My makeup is subtle and natural, though I do borrow some of Kayla’s pink Chanel lipstick. I would have asked her for permission first, but then she’d want to know why I needed lipstick. I know I would have her blessing if she knew where I was headed tonight. God, she’d be proud of me if she could see me now, getting escorted through the Staples Center toward a private box.

  While I realized the badge looked fancy when Ben handed it to me, I didn’t truly understand its significance. When I walked into the stadium earlier alongside all the other normal fans, I was asked to step aside and wait for a security escort.

  “Oh that’s not necessary,” I said, trying to laugh off the request.

  The woman scanning tickets smiled politely. “It’s customary for everyone with one of those badges. No worries, I see someone coming right now. You won’t have to wait long.”

  Now as the security guard sticks close by me as we walk through the mezzanine, people part for us with mouths gaping. A few people snap my picture, and I want to laugh. If they only knew I’m a nobody.

  We finally reach a discreetly concealed elevator, and the security guard tells me to scan my badge over a small sensor. I do and the doors whisk open immediately. Once we step inside, he inserts a key and presses the button with a capital P beside it.

  “Thank you for walking with me,” I tell him with a timid smile.

  I didn’t need the escort for security reasons—obviously—but I would have never figured out how to access the private suite on my own.

  “No problem. I’ll drop you at the door of the suite. If you need to leave it for any reason, please use the phone to call for security. When you’re ready to leave the game, two guards will take you to your car.”

  “Oh…okay. Thank you.”

  I choose not to tell him I took the bus here. Something tells me that would throw their whole system for a loop.

  I’ve been carless for a while. Nan’s finally crapped out on me a month after I arrived back in California, and I haven’t had the cash to buy a new one. Los Angeles is a driving city, so it’s been tricky, but I’ve lucked out living near the Caltech campus. Most everything I need is nearby, and if I ever need to get somewhere far away, Kayla or Ryan let me borrow one of their cars.

  The elevator arrives on the private floor and the doors sweep open. The first thing I notice is the floors. No concrete up here. Smooth white marble shines beneath glossy dark purple walls. Spaced evenly on either side, black and white photographs of past players hang side by side beneath museum lights. Between the photographs, there are doors to private suites, each one numbered. My badge is for suite number five, and that’s where I’m led.

  “Enjoy the game,” the guard tells me with a simple nod before leaving me to fend for myself.

  I look down at the polished gold doorknob, feeling my pulse pound as I pause and stare at it for a moment. I could still leave right now and scurry right back to my life as I know it. Ben would assume I never showed, and maybe that’d be it for us.

  But my hand twists that knob. I enter his world with a racing heart and a held breath. I don’t know what I was expecting, maybe a completely empty room, but when I open the door, there are a dozen people inside the suite. Only a handful of them look up when I enter, and thankfully, Leanna is one of them.

  “Raelynn!”

  She leaps up from her chair and darts toward me with a big smile on her face. Before I can even take a full step inside, she has me wrapped in a tight hug.

  “I didn’t think you would show! They’re already in the second quarter.”

  “Yeah, I hit some bad traffic.”

  I don’t tell her it was really the bus that was delayed.

  “No. It’s totally fine,” she says, holding me out at arm’s length and smiling wide.

  I feel guilty seeing her again, so guilty I can’t really meet her smile until we clear the air.

  “About the phone number—”

  “Stop. I would have done the same thing!” she says with a playful laugh. “I was only bummed because I did actually want to keep up with you. But hey, everything has worked out, right?”

  Has it?

  It doesn’t feel that way at all.

  She leads me back to where she was sitting and points to an empty oversized leather chair beside hers. From our seats, we have a sweeping view of the basketball court through a pane of glass, and I look down to find Ben huddled with his team during a timeout. I wonder if he’s solely focused on the court or if he’s worried about whether or not I showed. Then I blush with embarrassment. Of course he’s not thinking about me at a time like this.

  “They’ve been playing really well so far,” Leanna tells me, sounding proud.

  “Sorry, that’s usually my chair,” a voice says from behind me.

  I turn around then tilt my chin up to see a beautiful redhead with crossed arms assessing me with annoyance.

  “There aren’t assigned seats, Eva,” Leanna says with a little bite.

  Eva looks bored as she replies to Leanna while looking straight at me, “Your guest is in my seat.”

  “She’s not my guest. Ben invited her.”

  Eva’s gaze narrows, and now she looks curious where before she was merely inconvenienced.

  “Ben invited you?”

  I look to Leanna, and she nods in encouragement.

  I shrug like it’s no big deal. “We’re friends.”

  Or we were, at least.

  Eva laughs. “No, sweetie.” She points to the court in front of us. “Those guys don’t invite women here to be friends with them. They bring women like you here because they want you to see them look like gods. They want you to watch them on the court, listen to the adoring fans shouting their names, and fall head over heels.” She smiles sinisterly. “Ben wants you on your hands and knees, desperate for any little morsel of attention he’ll throw your way. That’s how this works.”

  “Ben’s not like that,” Leanna says, speaking up for me.

  Eva puffs out a laugh. “They’re all like that.”

  Then she rolls her eyes and heads toward another cluster of chairs on the opposite side of the suite.

  “Don’t listen to her,” Leanna says, leaning toward me. “Trey and Ben don’t do that kind of thing. I mean…Anthony, sure. He brings a new girl to this suite every week, trying to impress her, but Ben’s never invited a woman here since I’ve known him.”

  “It’s okay, you know. You don’t have to assure me of anything. I know the score with Ben.”

  She frowns.

  “He and I aren’t together. I mean, we never were together,” I continue, trying to ensure she knows the truth.

  She looks away. I assume the conversation is over, but I can’t help but feel like I’ve put her in a bad mood. I peer over at her, and her eyebrows are drawn together in anger. Then suddenly, she shakes her head before spinning to face me.

  “God, are we really going to do this all over again?”

  I rear back in surprise.

  “He was in love with you. When we left Texas for the Games, he was a total wreck. You giving me that wrong number…I mean, I just don’t get it, Raelynn. Why are you here?”

  “What?”

  “Why are you here if you don’t feel the same way he does?”

  My mouth hangs agape. I don’t have any words.

  She takes in my horrified expression, squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, and then looks away. “Sorry. God, don’t listen to me…” We’re both looking out at the court as she continues, “He would kill me if he knew I said all that. It’s just…it’s hard seeing a friend struggle like he did. And now, you’re here, and I thought…” She lets her sentence dwindle before she shakes her head. “I don’t want him to have to go through all that again.”

  “I struggled too,” I whisper, not quite courageous enough to say the words loudly.

  I think she heard me. Even still, we both sit in silence for a while, content to let the noise from the other people in the suite blanket us. We watch the game, and I lean forward in my seat, mesmerized by Ben on the court as he shoots and scores a three-pointer, sending the entire stadium to their feet just as the halftime buzzer blares. Leanna nudges me with her shoulder and offers a half-smile, effectively waving a white flag.

  “Come on, let’s get some food.”

  They’ve set up a full buffet in the suite, but just like the last time I was watching Ben play, I don’t have much of an appetite. My stomach is tied up with nerves, but Leanna is eating and I don’t want to make her feel awkward, so I get a little salad and a fluffy white roll. I break off bits of it and take little bites, trying to ignore my shaking hand. This whole thing is overwhelming, and I feel like Leanna expects me to bolt at any second. It is tempting. The quiet of my room back at Caltech beckons me. My old life with everything lined up in a row, all my classes in order, my resume a mile long. Still, I stay.

  Unfortunately, Eva finds us again while we’re eating. She comes over to our chairs carrying a champagne flute and perches right on the edge of the low coffee table in front of us, blocking my view of the court and the dancers entertaining the fans during halftime.

  “So, you and Ben, huh? Will you be traveling with him the rest of the season?” She looks to Leanna for a moment. “The team goes to New York on Sunday, right? For a game on Monday?”