Page 32 of The Other Side of Wild
I wrap my arms around her shoulders and pull her in for a bear hug, I take a few deep breaths before she speaks up. “It also has a fidget ring on the top. I thought it might help with your anxiety while you’re gone.” Pulling back, I hold my hand out, silently asking to see it. She places it in my hand and shows me what she’s talking about. Sure enough, on the top of the anchor where the chain would connect is a ring that smoothly spins.
It's such a small gesture, but one that’s thought out. But how did she make this so quickly? “How’d you get this so fast?” Realizing how gruff and unappreciative that made me sound, I internally cringe.
“Oh, um. I actually ordered it after you took me to the lighthouse. When you got excited about the wall of fame, I wanted to get you something with that picture on it. The anchor felt right to me. I didn’t realize it had a fidget ring on it until it got here.”
I’m staring at the anchor, no, at the picture of us when she whispers, “You don’t have to keep it if you don’t like it.” No, there’s no room for doubts. I bend my knees until I’m at eye level with her, grabbing her left hand; I kiss the back of it, flip it, and kiss the inside of her wrist.
“I love it more than I have words to explain right now. You have no idea how much I appreciate this. I’ll take this everywhere with me. Thank you.”
She gives me a closed-mouthed smile as she walks into me and wraps her arms around my waist. My cheek finds its favorite spot on the top of her head, and I bask in this moment of peace. Appreciating that my mind isn’t running in five hundred directions at the same time.
“I don’t want to, but I need to go.” It’s barely a whisper, not wanting to snap myself out of the trance this woman put me in. She places a kiss over my chest and then looks up at me with eyes shining; she’s a masterpiece.
“Go kick some butt, Grey. If you need me to distract you with more awful singing, I’m only a FaceTime away.” I chuckle because I don’t know that I’ll ever get enough of her “live performances.”
“I wish you and Harley could come with me; she really is the best therapist.”
“I have to agree with you there; there will never be a therapist as good as Harley Girl.” Her eyes shine a little brighter when she talks about her dog; I love it. With one final squeeze, I step away and jump in my car, heading away from the literal anchor I had tied to my sanity for the past 12 hours.
Chapter 16 – Greyson
Stepping onto the plane, I shake out my shoulders. I’m never strung this tight before away games. I know it’s not really the game that’s stressing me out. Going back, it’s like picking at a scab, never letting it fully heal, except I thought I had healed. Plus the emotional turmoil from last night, I can’t stop comparing the similarities in conflict resolution. How do I get her to open up? How do I earn her trust enough to let me in fully? How do I protect myself in the process? The thought of walking away is almost worse than the thought of possible fallout.Damned if you do. Damned if you don’t.
Reed walks down the aisle, sitting in the seat to my left; this is one of his superstitions. He has to sit in the same spot on the plane every time. Before me, he’d have the row to himself. But in my attempt to bond with the team, I made the mistake of sitting in his row, leaving a seat between me at the window and him in the aisle seat. We won that game, so he decided that I wasn’t allowed to sit anywhere else when we had away games.
Normally, that wouldn’t bother me, but today, I just want to be left alone. The flight from Tampa to Washington is six hours; there’s no way he’d sit there silently the whole time. My hand reaches into my black joggers and starts to spin the ring on the anchor Hannah gave me. I’d take it out and stare at the picture, but the last thing I want is to be fielding questions from a bunch of nosy Nellies.
“You’re quiet, Wilder. What’s on your mind?” Breathing out an extra-long inhale, I spin the ring back and forth.
“I’m good, just didn’t sleep all that well last night.” Rubbing the back of my neck with my other hand, hoping that was believable, he nods, seeming to buy it.
“I’ve played for Tampa my whole career. I won’t pretend I know what it feels like to play against your brothers. But know we’ve got your back, man.” I nod; we’ll go with that.
“Get some sleep. Once we get in the air, I’ll go kick Wilson and Monroe’s butts in poker.” I know there will not be a single soul asleep on this plane if they start playing poker. It sounds like a UFC match in here. I’m surprised punches haven’t been thrown yet.
We got to the hotel, and I half expected to be ambushed the second we got there. I refuse to leave my room, though. Our game is tomorrow night, and I’m doing my best to keep my focus on the task at hand, which is to win and go home.
I ordered my typical pre-game day meal of a 16 oz steak, a baked potato, and broccoli and decided to eat it in the room while the rest of the team went out. I thought they’d hassle me over why I wasn’t going, but Monroe just gave me a pat on the back and left. I’m halfway through my dinner when I get a text from an unknown local number that reads, “I’ll see you tomorrow, G.” The only person who has ever called me that, is Kara.
My breathing picks up; I’ve completely lost my appetite. The loss of control I have over this situation is eating away at me. I need to get away, but there's nowhere togo. She’s freaking everywhere, and there doesn’t seem to be a rhyme or reason. Maybe this is just another ploy of her manipulation game. Nothing would surprise me about her these days. Pushing my plate away, I stumble into the bathroom, missing the light switch before I hit the floor. There are white spots clouding my vision. I manage to get myself in a sitting position and interlace my fingers before putting them on top of my head.
I count backward from ten, but it does nothing. I try to sing, “God is bigger than the boogie man,” like my mom did when Tatum or I had nightmares when we were little. Instead of having a calming effect, it makes my chest heave harder; I hate that I don’t have this under control. I’ve lost track of time. I can’t take a full breath; my chest feels like there’s a python wrapped around it. I know if I don’t calm down, I’m going to pass out.
“Hey Siri, facetime Kitten.” It’s a gasp; I’m surprised I even got it out.
It rings for what feels like forever, and my throat feels like it's closing more every second. “Hi, Grey.” She sounds so far away like she’s underwater. I can’t get my voice to work. “Hello? Are you there?” The lights are still off in the bathroom, so she can’t see me. It hits me then that she might think I butt-dialed her.
“Greyson?” I take a shuddering breath, willing any sound to come out of my mouth, but it doesn’t. “Oh my gosh, hold on.” The pressure in my chest loosens a tiny bit at the fact that she knows just what I need.
I hear something rustle on the other end of the phone, and suddenly, her face pops up on the screen. She’s make-up-free, her hair is up in a bun, and she’s gotmyHawks sweatshirt on. If I could smile, I would. “Okay, so, today I got to work on the final touches for the carnival. All the permitshave been approved and I get to go to the pier tomorrow to make sure everything is set up correctly. Then I got on a call with Lilly and Cade; they’re both so excited he gets to play for at least another season.” She goes on recounting her day up until the point that I called her. By the end of it, my chest doesn’t feel as tight.
I reach up and turn on the light, blinking rapidly to adjust my eyes.
“Hi, Dozer.” She says, her voice softer than it was moments before. Her entire face seems to glow when she sees me. The tension in her forehead dissipates, replaced by the soft smile I’ve come to crave.
Happiness swims in her eyes; it’s genuine and unfiltered. The fact that there is not an ounce of pity or annoyance at the fact that she’s dropped everything to make sure I’m okay twice in the past twenty-four hours does something to me that I’m terrified to admit out loud.
The moments pass, and we just stare at each other in comfortable silence. The tightness in my throat finally subsides enough for me to talk.