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“Thanks, Kennedy. I think that is all I am going to need. I will pay you back, somehow,” my sentence trails off to a defeated whisper, but she hears me anyway.
“No, you won’t. Brock will,” she bites out, causing me to laugh humorlessly.
A blue sedan pulls up in front of me. As the car comes to a stop, the passenger side window rolls down. The driver, a twenty-something-year-old, calls out to me.
“You Kassidy?”
My feet start to move as I nod in response. Once I am in the car, my attention returns to Kennedy.
“The car just picked me up. Thank you for coming to my rescue again,” I whisper.
“Don’t even sweat it. The guys are grabbing showers. I am going to grab some of your clothes and grab a shower myself. We will see you in a few hours. If you are hungry, order room service. No doubt you haven’t eaten.”
Kennedy hangs up the phone before I can argue as the car rolls to a stop in front of a nicer hotel. I start to dig through my purse for a tip when the driver waves me off, telling me it has been taken care of. Climbing from the car, calling out a quick “thank you” over my shoulder, he drives away as soon as the door closes behind me.
Making my way up the stairs and through the main doors, a rush of warm air causes me to shiver. Sitting in the stands, I hadn’t realized how cold it had gotten once the sun went down. Wrapping my arms around my body to ward off the chill that has set in, I warily approach the desk. The pretty blonde behind the desk greets me with a soft smile.
After providing my identification, she goes through the steps of getting me checked in. Briefly reviewing the amenities of the hotel, she passes me the room key, directing me to a bank of elevators around the corner.
Pressing the button to call the elevator, I get a look at my reflection in the metal doors and mentally cringe at my appearance. Giving up on fixing my appearance, my eyes focus on the lights above the elevator as they count down the floor. The light flashes the lobby first before the ping sounds and the doors glide open.
Stepping into the empty car, I press the button for my floor, leaning against the back wall. The events of the day weigh on my shoulders, and they sag in defeat. My phone pings in my pocket just as the elevator makes a slight bounce before stopping, but I ignore it.
Once the doors open, I step out and follow the signs toward my room. Inserting the little key card into the slot, I pull it back out once the light turns green. Turning the handle and pushing the door open, my breath catches at the opulence of the room Kennedy booked for me. Letting out a soft groan when I realize this isn’t just a room, it’s a suite, my head drops back on my shoulders.
Taking in the extra-large bedroom with an attached living room area, my eyes bug out at the additional lounge area with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the city. My stomach grumbles reminding me that it has been hours since I ate those nachos at the field. Moving to the phone, guilt swamps me as I look over the room service menu. Not having much choice but to take advantage of Kennedy’s generosity, I pick out what I hope is the least expensive but most filling items on the menu.
Now that food has been squared away, a shower is next. Setting a timer on my phone, I quickly strip down and jump into the bathtub. Letting out a squeal as the cold water hits my body, I chastise myself for being in such a rush that the water wasn’t given enough time to get hot. It doesn’t take long for the water to reach a near-scalding temperature. Standing under the spray, the warmth soaks into my body, turning it a nice shade of red.
Before too long, the alarm on my phone goes off, warning me that dinner will be arriving in a few minutes. After toweling off, I resign myself to getting dressed in the same clothes I had on, minus the dirty underwear. Since dinner isn’t here yet, I decide to give them a quick wash in the bathroom sink, using a bar of soap and a dollop of shampoo. Kennedy is supposed to bring clothes with her, but it is better to be prepared. Ringing as much of the excess water out of them as possible, I hang them on the towel rack just as a knock sounds on the door.
A quick scribble on the delivery slip and the cart gets rolled into my room. The aroma coming from under the silver domes makes my mouth water. Quickly moving to the overstuffed leather couch, I pull the table as close to me as possible. Removing the domes, steam wafts into the air as I stare down at one of the largest hamburgers ever. The bun is almost as big as my head. Clicking on the television as I take a bit of my burger, a moan escapes me as grease runs down the side of my hand. A personal philosophy of mine has always been the messier the burger the better it tastes.
Unable to finish the entire meal, my eyes droop as I start slipping into a carb induced food coma. Moving the cart to the side, I strip down to just my T-shirt and climb into bed. A movie plays softly in the background as my eyes drift shut and sleep takes me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Still riding the high of yesterday’s win, Zanko and I pack our bags and head downstairs for breakfast with the team before we load onto the buses and head to the next game. It’s only a two-hour ride to the next college, but the game starts at two in the afternoon.
We traveled most of the distance last night. It was close to midnight by the time we caught up to the rest of the team. I hope Kassidy is okay. I wanted to check on her last night, but it was so late I was afraid to wake her up.
We make our way to the designated banquet room in the hotel. Stepping inside, the volume inside is loud. It seems like Zanko and I aren’t the only ones still pumped from last night’s win.
My eyes scan the room for a mop of red hair. When I don’t see Kassidy anywhere, I shrug it off. She either ate already and escaped back to her room or hasn’t made it down here yet.
Heading directly to the buffet, I grab a plate and start piling it up with food. Dropping into the first empty chair I can find, Zanko drops down next to me. About halfway through my breakfast Orazio and Keaton sit opposite us. With a fork fullof food halfway to my mouth, my hand pauses when Keaton’s words sink in.
“So, Brock, where’s your girlfriend? Is she too good to share a meal with us?” he says with a sneer. “First, she couldn’t eat dinner with us last night, and now she doesn’t show up for breakfast?”
My fork clatters to my plate as a sinking feeling washes over me. Fumbling for my phone, it takes me several tries to unlock it as my hands behind to shake.
Zanko mutters a soft “fuck” as he scrubs his hands over his face, his brows pinched together.
“Come on, come on, come on!” I chant as her phone rings once before going to voicemail. This process repeats several times before I jump to my feet and make my way through the sea of players to the coaches’ table.
“Ah, excuse me, Coach Pollard?” I ask, hiding my concern for Kassidy. I don’t remember seeing her after we stepped off the bus.
“What is it, Adams?” he asks gruffly.
