I don’t owe Jensen, and as his physical therapist, I should tell Caitlin. It’s important for her to know. Yet I can’t force my lips apart.
A vibration thrums deep inside me, a forbidden excitement, all because I’m keeping his secret. It feels familiar and warm … andI hate it. We’re not friends anymore. Now, we’re nothing.
But that doesn’t explain why I stay silent for the next ten minutes while Caitlin finishes her examination.
She lifts her wrist and checks her Apple Watch. “I have to step out to take this call. Lainey, would you mind cleaning the table to get it ready for the next player?” she says, holding her phone in her hand while she strides toward the door and opens it.
“Not at all!” I respond eagerly—too eagerly—and I can feel Jensen’s stare burning into the side of my face as she answers her phone and steps into the hallway, shutting the door behind her.
The second I hear her voice trail away, I turn to Jensen, my lips pursed and arms crossed. “Why are you lying?”
He sits up tall on the table, holding my stare with an annoying look of innocence. “What do you mean?”
I cock my head to the side as my eyes fall to half-mast. “You know exactly what I mean. Why are you hiding it?”
He runs his hands through his hair, his body going rigid, including the straining muscles running horizontal right beneath his pecs, peeking out from his shirt. Taking a deep breath, he says my name with desperation. “Lainey.”
“Don’tLaineyme, Jensen. Don’t even say my name.”
He chuckles, not fazed from my tone. His face falls, eyes staring at the floor. His voice is serious, taking me by surprise. “You can’t tell them.”
I cross my arms. “Can’t tell them what? That your old knee problems are bothering you again?” I exhale heavily, somehow already so aggravated from the shortest conversation with him. “Why? I don’t get it.”
Flexing his leg out, he stretches it back and forth with a haunting look in his eyes. “Please. Promise me.”
I scoff, crossing my arms. “I don’t owe you anything. Besides, it’s part of my job now to report any injuries.”
A pained expression drifts across his face as he turns his head to face me. “I get it. You don’t want anything to do with me. You don’t owe me. You hate me. I fucking get it. But please, Lain, please don’t say anything.”
“Give me one good reason,” I protest.
He presses his lips together, his eyes bouncing back and forth between mine. “Whale shark,” he murmurs, knocking all the air from my lungs.
Whale shark … God, I haven’t heard that since we were all teens. It was a saying in our friend group—abe-all and end-allphrase that was used to halt any questions, any concerns,everything. When one of us saidwhale shark, it meant wedropped everything and were there for that person however they needed, no matter what, with no further questions asked.
But those same rules no longer apply.
I glare at him. “That doesn’t work with me anymore.”
He huffs, leaning back on his hands. “If Luca used it, would it work?”
I clench my jaw. “That’s different.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s still my friend.” I take a step toward him, my body boiling up.
His nostrils flare, and his eyes soften. “I might not be your friend, Lain. You might not give a shit about me anymore, but you’re one of the most important people in the world to me, and nothing will ever fucking change that. Even you dating the biggest asshole who will never deserve you won’t scare me away.”
My heart aches as if a knife was plunged through it, jagged edges shredding up my insides. He can’t just say sweet things and expect me to just forgive him. Cole would be livid if he found out we were even having this conversation to begin with.
“I can’t do this, Jensen.” My tone is sharp, and my eyes burn.Oh, hell no, I am not crying right now.
Shooting up from the table, he strides over to me, and I back up against the wall, but he doesn’t stop until he’s a foot from my face, his hand pinned to the wall by my head.
“Why are yousoangry, huh? After all we’ve been through, and you’re going to letthatpiece of shit divide us.” He points aggressively, and even though Cole is states away from us, I know that’s who Jensen is gesturing about.
I jab my finger into his chest. “You made your own choices not to disclose your injury. It’s not my fault that you can’t live with the consequences.”
