48. Fallon

Iblink through my sleep and confusion before my phone vibrates against the nightstand, the source of my early wake-up. I quickly try to disentangle myself from Corey’s sleeping form before it wakes him, but he shifts as soon as I move.

“Sorry. I forgot to silence it after talking to Lexie last night.”

He shakes his head and kisses my bare shoulder. “I’ll go to make coffee.” He rolls out of bed, and I’m completely distracted by his naked perfection. Every one of my brain cells is considering deals and pleas for him to come back to bed.

My phone rings again, reminding me why I’m awake. I move to silence it and beg Corey to return, but notice my old teammate, Janessa’s name on the screen. I frown. I haven’t heard from Janessa in a few years. A grade older than me, she attended one of the colleges that promised opportunities few could offer with a price tag that fewer could afford.

“Hello?” I answer.

“Fallon?” she asks as Corey slips out of the room in a pair of shorts and a long-sleeved tee. “It’s been a hot minute. How are you?”

I sit up, trying to orient myself as her question speaks to my subconscious. “I’m well. How are you?”

“I noticed. I’ve been keeping tabs on you. I’m in Spain. I just signed my first contract.”

Envy, joy, and hope careen through my thoughts. “Spain? Janessa, that’s amazing! Congratulations.”

She laughs. “Wild, right? I mean, we knew we were good enough. It’s nice to know someone else agrees.”

“I hope you’re celebrating.”

“Listen, the team’s looking for a new forward. Guitera snapped her Achilles two days ago, and there’s talk she’ll be forced into an early retirement.”

My pulse pounds in my head as hope infiltrates too many of my thoughts.

“They’re holding tryouts this week. You’d have to walk on, but I’ve already told our coach that you’ll be exactly what they want. You just have to come out here.”

“When? For how long?”

“You need to be here by Tuesday. Fallon, we’ll dominate together.”

“You’re up early,” Nolan says as I step into the kitchen.

“Fallon’s phone woke us up.”

“You let her keep her phone?” Nolan’s look of outrage only lasts a few seconds before he chuckles. “Man, you’ve got it bad.” He continues laughing as he turns to the fridge and pulls out a gallon of milk. “Welcome to the club.”

“What club?” Grey asks, looking half asleep as he walks into the kitchen wearing sweatpants and an old Camden tee.

Nolan grins. “I think outsiders call it the whipped club.”

Grey raises his eyebrows. “They’re fucking idiots.” He grabs two cans of nitro coffee, and without another word, he heads back upstairs to Mila.

I wait until the coffee pot is full enough to fill two cups, then take them upstairs. Fallon is still tucked into bed, but her eyes are round, and she looks fully awake.

“Everything okay?”

She swallows. “That was an old teammate who called. She invited me to fly to Spain to try out for her team because they just lost their forward.”

Seconds ago, I dreaded the finality of the week and our conflicting schedules. That now feels like a joke when I consider the Atlantic would be between us if she goes to Spain.

My throat is too damn dry as I work to swallow the pleas for her to stay.

Fallon shakes her head. “I mean, I can’t go. Right?”

“You have to. This is your dream.”

Her eyes are too hollow to be happy, but too bright to be sad. “I know, but we just finally got together.”

“We’ll make it work. We’re pretty damn good at texting.” I move closer, setting her coffee on the bedside table.

“There’s no guarantee I’ll make it.” She shakes her head again. “This is crazy. I can’t.”

I want to tie weights onto her doubts by reminding her of her parents, Lexie, our promised beach trips—of me—but as the words bunch together in my thoughts, I finally understand Anna’s insistence for me to return to Oleander Springs. Loving someone doesn’t involve pinning them down, so they can’t ever change. Fallon was made to fly. I knew that from the first moment I met her.

“You have to,” I say, tucking a lock of her hair behind an ear. “You’ve worked too damn hard not to try. Besides, having an excuse to visit Spain sounds like a pretty damn good problem, if you ask me.”

She smiles, but emotions well in her eyes. I push on before they can gain ground.

“Do you have a passport?”

Fallon nods. “We played in a few tournaments up in Canada.”

I nod. “What part of Spain?”

“Madrid.” She runs a hand down her face. “I haven’t looked at tickets. I don’t even know if I can get there on time. Tryouts start Tuesday and run through Thursday…”

The news has me reeling. It’s too soon.

I set my coffee down next to hers. “Why don’t you take a shower? We’ll talk about the logistics once you’ve had a minute to let the idea process.”

She stares at me for a moment, her expression calculating. I’m pretty sure I’ve just said the wrong thing, but I don’t know what part of it was damning or if I should be doing something else entirely. Maybe Nolan’s wrong, and I’m not a part of this club because everything feels fucking foreign at the moment.

Fallon nods and pushes the covers back. “What about practice? There’s no way Becca will accept me missing a week of practice.”

“It won’t matter if you make it.”

“I’m all about contingencies,” she reminds me.

“Tell her you’re sick. She won’t want the others getting strep throat or something contagious before the season starts.”

Fallon nods. “That might work. And maybe I can come back sooner.” She rubs a hand across her cheek.

I nod. “We’ll figure it all out.”

She crosses the room, taking my whole fucking heart with her, and because I’ve apparently become a sadist, I dig my cell phone out, find the best flight option for Madrid, and book Fallon a roundtrip ticket.