Page 6 of Lose You Twice

“It’s the answer you’re getting.”

Grayson studies me for a second. He’s gotten better at that since Harlow. Or maybe he was always good at seeing things, and I only started noticing when the things he saw involved my sister.

“Your ex is starting school here,” he says finally. “And is around a lot, especially with Harlow.”

My grip tightens on the sled as I stare down at the turf. “I’m aware.”

“You saw her at the party.”

I bend my neck and turn away, trying to show him that I am completely uninterested in having this conversation. “Also aware.”

“And now you’re here extra early in the morning trying to become one with the equipment.”

I push the sled hard enough that the turf burns under my shoes. “This is called training.”

“Pretty sure it’s called avoidance, but sure.”

“Do you have a point?” I don’t intend for my voice to come out as sharp as it does.

“Yeah.” He waits until I hit the end of the lane, then says, “You don’t have to act like you’re fine about it. It’s allowed to be awkward and weird and bring up past shit.”

I laugh once, but there’s no humor in it. “Pretty sure I do.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Team captain needs to have his shit together, Grayson. We both know that.”

He gives me a pointed look. “You’re allowed to be a human before you’re a captain.”

I turn the sled again because if I stop moving, I might actually have to listen to him. “I’m fine, Gray.”

He doesn’t answer right away.

That’s worse than arguing.

Finally, he says, “Harlow’s worried about you.”

Of course she is.

A sharp, familiar guilt presses under my ribs. “She doesn’t need to be.”

“You know telling her that has never worked once, right?”

“She has enough going on.”

“She’s happy,” he says quietly. “And she’s allowed to worry about you at the same time.”

I don’t look at him.

I don’t want to talk about Harlow worrying about me. I don’t want to talk about Wren being back. I don’t want to talk about any of the things sitting inside me, because talking about any of them right now would feel a lot like rolling my heart over broken glass.

So I push the sled again.

Grayson finally gets the message and drops the conversation, at least for now.

That’s one of the reasons I trust him. He pushes when it matters, but he doesn’t pry for sport. He can stand in silence without trying to fill it, which is more than I can say for most of the guys on our team.

As if I summoned them by the thought, the weight room door bangs open.