Page 59 of Lose You Twice

Wrenley Mae: That’s my love language.

Kai: another reason why I love you.

My grip tightens around the phone, and I reread them again and again before deciding I should probably apologize in person.

The equipment hallway is colder than the locker room and quieter than it should be. The rubber floor muffles my steps. From somewhere farther down, I hear the low rumble of a laundry machine and the scrape of wheels.

I follow the sound.

Wren is in the equipment room with the cart parked beside a row of bins. She has her sleeves pushed up, and one hand braced on the edge of the cart while she reads labels under her breath.

“Practice towels. Game towels. Emergency towels,” she murmurs. “What the hell is an emergency towel?”

“Those are for blood,” I say from the doorway.

She jumps.

Then turns and glares at me. “Do not sneak up on a woman.”

“I didn’t sneak.”

“You arrived quietly, which I consider sneaking.”

I step inside but stop a few feet from her, leaving space because I am still painfully aware of just how affected I am by being in the same room as her.

She notices.

Her gaze drops to the space between us, then back to my face.

“Did Donnelly send you?” she asks.

“No.”

“Then are you here as the hockey captain or as Harlow’s brother?”

I deserve that too. “Neither.”

Her mouth tightens. “Kai.”

“I’m here because I should’ve answered your text.”

The room settles around us.

Laundry hums behind the wall. Wren looks down at the labels again, but she doesn’t move.

“I didn’t want to find out this way,” I say.

She laughs once without humor. “Yeah, well, I didn’t want to tell you by appearing in your locker room like a horror-movie reveal, which is why I texted you. But you didn’t reply, so really, this is your fault.”

I sigh. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Her eyes lift to mine. Some of the fight goes out of her face, which is almost worse. Anger is easier to deal with than disappointment.

“I saw it,” I admit.

Her expression changes, confusion taking the place of the remaining anger.

Clearing my throat, I continue. “In class. I saw the preview.”