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Like he refused to listen to my girl when she said ‘no.’
His head snapped back to Evan before swallowing down a growl and clearing his throat. “Sorry?”
Evan sighed. “I want a team breakfast tomorrow. Get the word out now, alright? I’ll pick up everything. We’ll talk to them in the morning. I don’t want to waste practice time in the afternoon.”
Cornell nodded. “I’ll send out a message.”
“You feeling okay?” Evan narrowed his eyes as Cornell turned, heading out of his office.
“Never better.”
* * *
“Finally!” Ali called out. “I almost ate without you. I made enchiladas.”
Cornell closed the front door, dropping his gym bag. Mowgli butted into his legs excitedly, but Cornell couldn’t even bring himself to give him more than a quick pat on the head.
“I even made dessert. Your favorite,” Ali said, smiling with a wink. “Betty Crocker’s finest.”
There was an energy about her as she danced around the kitchen. Why does it have to be a good day? Cornell wondered painfully. Why do I have to ruin a good day?
Ali opened the fridge, pulling out a beer and handing it to him with the opener. “Hi,” she said, jumping up to kiss him. Cornell wanted to die.
Why did it have to be a good day?
“I’ll get you a plate,” she said, letting her hand slide down his chest before turning. But Cornell wasn’t just not hungry. He was nauseous.
“Can it wait a second? I need to talk to you about something.”
Ali turned from across the kitchen, where she was stretching up to grab a dinner plate from the cabinet. “Is everything okay?”
No. God, no.
Cornell opened the beer and took a heavy swig even though he knew there was a good chance his stomach would send it right back out. With all his might, Cornell tried to take a deep breath, but with his heart racing as fast as it was, it didn’t seem possible.
“Cornell?”
“I… I don’t want to be this guy,” he began. “I never want to be the kind of guy who ever tells you not to do something. I hate that’s what I’m about to do, but Ali… you can’t come to the game on Friday.”
Ali knitted her brow together in confusion. “What? Why?”
Sighing, Cornell ran a hand over his jaw before taking a deep breath. “Graham transferred to Ridgewood after he left. He’ll be starting on Friday.” The light went out in Ali’s eyes as soon as his name left Cornell’s mouth. “Ali—”
“I’ll get you a plate,” was all she said with a quick nod, turning away from him.
“Ali,” he said softly, approaching her. There was the slightest twitch of her shoulders, the sound of plates clattering in her hands. Cornell stepped beside her, reaching out to take the plates before she pulled them away from him.
“I won’t go,” she said calmly. “But for the record, it’s not because you’re telling me not to. I don’t want to be ten miles from him, let alone ten yards.” Moving to the stove, Ali lifted the foil from the baking dish.
You’re stronger than me,Cornell said to himself. I wish I was strong enough to stay away. Because all I want to do is kill him for what he did to you. But he couldn’t. No matter how strong the taste for blood was in his mouth, no matter how hard his hands clenched into tight fists at the thought of having the opportunity, Cornell couldn’t because Ali needed him.
Cornell took the full plate and put it down. “Come here,” he said, tugging her hand gently to hug her. Ali sighed as she wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face into Cornell’s chest with a heavy sigh as she slipped her hands beneath his shirt to hold onto his back.
The tension in her body was palpable against his. He held her tighter, trying to steal some of it. I don’t want you to do this alone. Ali relinquished her grip on Cornell’s back, but not her wrap on his waist. He felt the latch of her hand on her own arm.
“What can I do?” he asked, cupping her face.
Pressing her lips tightly together, Ali sighed through her nose before parting them, wetting them, waiting for him. Her latch broke, and she moved her hands to his waist, slipping them up his shirt. Her eyelashes fluttered, her light-brown orbs darkened. “Keep me here.”
