Chapter 24

Jennie

In all my favorite movies, and in all my favorite books, there's this moment that I like to call the cotton candy cloud moment.

It's usually at the beginning, but sometimes a little toward the end, when everything is working out perfectly for the main character. They're high on life, everything going their way, and they bear an impenetrable smile as they seemingly float through every day on a cloud of fluffy pink and purple sugar. It usually happens right before everything crashes down.

That was me.

I was having my cotton candy cloud moment.

And there was no crash in sight.

Charlotte was so impressed after the auction and especially by me handling our away game in Maine that she offered to extend my contract through next season — and with that came a signing bonus and a raise. I was shocked to silence when she first told me, but she'd only smiled and arched a brow.

"Your determination to prove everyone wrong about you worked," she said. "But now, I want you to ask yourself what it is you really want from this. And then, I want you to take it."

Her belief in me had stoked a fire, making me consider all the ways my career could pan out. It was intoxicating to think about.

But nothing was as intoxicating as Lisa.

I woke up with her in my bed almost every morning, and on the ones I didn't, she would be at my door within seconds of me waking. Classes dragged by, practice always seemed too long, and even happy as I was in my job, I couldn't wait for the work day to be done, for the interviews and publicity events to end.

I couldn't wait to be back in her arms.

Every moment she spent unraveling me was ecstasy, my body singing like never before under her symphonic conduction. Just when I thought I'd found my favorite way to have her touch me or fill me, she'd find a new way, something to excite me and surprise me and bring me pleasure not even my books could rival.

And that wasn't even the best part.

The best moments were when we were wrapped together in the early hours of the morning, talking and laughing and discovering one another more than just physically. Or when we'd have a whole conversation across the crowded practice field with just one single glance. Or when anxiety would start to creep in for one of us, and the other would quickly soothe it with just the right words and a kiss to seal the promise.

"What would you think about coming home with me for Christmas?"

I blanched at Lisa's question one morning, the first words she spoke in the early light.

"To California?"

She nodded.

My heart burst at how she looked at me, with reverence and a tinge of fear. I held onto that gaze as I curled into her, wrapping my arms around her waist and lying my head on her chest.

"On two conditions."

"Name them."

"One, you meet my dad when he comes in a couple weeks for my sister's award ceremony."

"Done."

I smiled into her chest.

"And two?"

"Two," I said, drawing a circle on her stomach with my finger. "You have to teach me how to surf."

"I can't surf."

"Then we can both learn."

"It'll be freezing."

I peeked up at her. "I bet we can find ways to warm up after."

Her sleepy grin matched mine, and then she kissed me, and I was the happiest girl in the world.

Every day was a gift, shinier and more promising than the last, and I floated on my little cotton candy cloud in pure, unbreakable bliss.

Even when Diana tried to rip me off and throw me to the cold hard earth.

I was in the stadium bathroom about a week after our win against the Bandits, wiping under my eyes from where my mascara had run. It had been a long day, especially with Kyle Robbins signing yet another deal that meant I was committed to helping him through a photoshoot for a sports drink. Honestly, I couldn't fault him.

If I could make a couple hundred-thousand dollars for a photoshoot, I'd do it, too.

As I reapplied my lipstick and tried to give my hair back some of the volume that the humid cold had brought, Diana whipped through the door.

She paused at the sight of me, swallowing as her eyes trailed me from head to toe. I expected her to go into one of the stalls, but instead, she walked straight toward the sinks, flicking on the water as she began to wash her hands.

"Long day?" she asked, arching a brow but not really looking at me.

I swallowed, but kept my focus on my reflection. "Seems like they're all that way during the season."

"Tell me about it. I long for the day when I can sleep in past six again."

She smiled with the comment, and I had to actively fight to keep the confusion off my face.

Was she actually trying to have a conversation with me?

As she dried her hands, she leaned a hip against the bathroom counter, facing me. "So… things with you and Lisa seem pretty serious."

Oh, God.

Here it comes.

I didn't know how to respond, so I just smiled.

"She's a good person." She said, her voice softer, brows folding together. "I didn't realize that until it was too late."

"She is," I agreed.

"And she deserves to be happy," she added. "It… well, quite frankly, it infuriates me that you do that. That you weren't just a rebound like a lot of us thought."

I couldn't tell if she wanted to make me upset with that last comment, but the truth was all I could do was smile to myself at all the missing pieces she'd never know.

That no one would ever know.

"Anyway, I just want to apologize if I've come off a little… bitchy," she said after a moment. "I was threatened by you."

I couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of me. "I can't imagine why."

"Neither could I at first," she said, unflinchingly. "But look who got her."

I pressed my lips together.

Diana watched me for far too long, long enough that I considered saying goodbye and pushing past her. But before I could, she took a step toward me, lowering her voice.

"But let me just be clear," she said, looking down her nose at me. "I want her to be happy. I'll leave her alone. But the second you slip up, I'll be here, waiting." She smiled, the curl of her lips making my stomach drop. "And I promise, if I get her back?" Her eyebrow hiked as she eyed me. "She won't remember your name, let alone why she ever wanted you."

My jaw tightened, heart spiking with the kind of fight-or-flight response I imagine my ancestors used to feel when getting chased by a predator.

But I reminded myself that I wasn't defenseless.

I had a fucking sword of a tongue.

"And I promise you," I said, stepping up to her just as much. "That you won't get the chance."

I smiled sweetly, patting her on the shoulder as I pushed past her.

Every molecule in me wanted to jump and thrust my fist into the air in victory when I swung out of that bathroom, but I kept my cool, walking slowly and calmly all the way back to my office.

No one could knock me off my cloud.

I was practically prancing across campus on the first Monday of November, the bitter chill of the air not enough to wipe the smile from my face as I ducked into the coffee shop and ordered my usual. When I had the steaming latte in hand, I turned for the door.

And ran right into Kai.

"Whoa," he said, grabbing my upper arms to steady me with a grin. "Easy there, you're going to knock someone out with all the sunshine you're bouncing around with."

I laughed on a breath, tucking my curls behind my ear as I righted myself. "Hi," I said, and instantly, my cheeks flushed — not because of the warmth of the coffee shop or my latte, but from the way Kai watched me, from how I'd completely blown him off after the night at his apartment without so much as a text to explain why.

He looked like a mix between a dog that had been kicked, and the poor sucker who'd kicked it and then regretted it.

"Hi," he replied.

He slid his hands into his pockets, eyes washing over me as his brows bent together.

"You look great," he said after a moment. "Happy."

"I am," I said easily, a genuine smile finding my lips. "I really am."

"Good." Kai nodded, rolling his lips together against what he wanted to say before it burst free. "Are you… did you and Lisa break up?"

"What?" I frowned, shaking my head. "No."

"No," Kai repeated, deadpan. "What do you mean, no?"

"I mean, no, we didn't break up. We're still together and…" I smiled, shaking my head. "We're amazing."

Kai looked like I'd just punched him in the stomach.

"Jennie, come on… you're not stupid. Please tell me you don't believe what you just said."

My brows shot up into my hairline, and I stared at him incredulously for one moment before I turned on my heels. "Wow. Goodbye, Kai."

He followed me despite the farewell and my attempt to shut the glass door behind me before he could catch it.

"She isn't good for you, she isn't good period."

I spun to face him. "You don't even know her."

"I know how she treats you," he said, his nose flaring, chest puffing like he was my shining knight riding in to save me. "That's enough."

I fought the urge to laugh, letting out a long, slow sigh. "Kai, I promise — it's not all that I made it seem. You don't—"

"Don't tell me I don't understand. I saw how she made you cry, how she made you feel worthless and disrespected with her mouth on another girl's body right in front of you."

I battled with the decision on whether to tell him about the whole ruse, but decided it wasn't for him — or anyone else — to know.

"We've worked through things," I landed on, reaching out to squeeze Kai's forearm. "And I'm sorry I brought you into the situation. I shouldn't have. It was wrong of me, and selfish. But… we're okay now. We're better than okay."

Kai shook his head. "Don't you see? This is how people like her work. They'll push and push you until you're on the edge of leaving, and then they'll do whatever it takes to lure you back in. It's her who's the selfish one."

My defenses shot up, more for Lisa than for myself. "I'm done having this conversation. You don't know her. You don't know me, for that matter."

"That's not for my lack of trying."

I blew out a breath, though I couldn't deny how his words stung. It wasn't like me to play games with people, and though I hadn't really intended to — that was exactly what I'd done with him.

"I have to go," I said. "Take care, okay?"

Before he could say another word, I turned, heading toward the stadium and leaving him on the sidewalk outside the café. I felt bad for him, for the game we'd played that had worked so well. We'd fooled him and Diana and everyone else around us, too.

But I shook it off, deciding it was better to leave all that in the past.

And I continued floating on, basking in my sugary, pastel paradise.