Page 118 of Play For Me

“I’m sorry,” Sol mumbles, and my attention snaps to him.

“What on earth are you sorry for?”

He shrugs a little. “That you had to hear that. My dad is…well. He’s not the nicest guy.”

I snort at that. “Understatement, Sol. What the hell is his problem?”

A flash of something bitter crosses his expression. “If you find out, let me know.”

I take a tentative step closer. There’s something very closed off about him right now, and it’s giving me a bad feeling. “Does he always talk to you like that?”

He shrugs. “I don’t see him much.”

He’s not really looking at me, his posture rigid. I wonder when was the last time that we stood in a room alone like this and didn’t touch each other?

“Solomon.”

“Don’t you have weight training?” he asks, and it reminds me of what I’d overheard when I first walked in.

“What did you mean when you told your dad you weren’t working with me anymore?”

Somehow, he gets even more tense. “I think Devon will want to talk to you about it at training tonight.”

“Why don’t you just tell me now?”

He closes his eyes. “I’m tired, Cecelia.”

I’m starting to get really worried now. I don’t like how cold he sounds, not at all like himself. And I don’t like that he won’t tell me what’s going on.

“Please just tell me,” I press. “Did something happen today? You haven’t answered any of my texts?—”

“Devon took me off your treatment,” he says in that same flat voice, still not looking at me. “He saw us waiting for your parents after meeting the surgeon yesterday. He saw us hug.”

My blood goes cold. “That’s ridiculous. We’d just gotten good news! Of course we hugged.”

“I kissed the top of your head, Cecelia,” he mutters. “He could tell it was more than just friendly.”

“So what, he demoted you?” Anger is starting to mix with the worry. “Over a hug and a kiss to myhair?”

“Not exactly. It makes sense for him to take over your treatment with the scare you had. I’m just going to be working with some of the other players until the end of the regular season.”

I don’t like this at all. I don’t want to work with Devon all the time. Devon isn’t the one who can read my mood—or my body—from twenty feet away. Devon isn’t the one I trust.

And then something he said jumps out at me. “What do you mean, until the end of the regular season. What about the tournament?”

He shrugs. “He said we’d re-evaluate. I’m…I’m not sure they’ll ask me to stick around for the tournament.”

Fresh rage courses through me. There’s no fucking way they’re taking him off the training team for the tournament. Not over a hug.

“I’ll talk to him,” I say. “I’ll get this fixed.”

“Please don’t.” He sounds tired now. “I don’t want him to get any more pissed off with me. I still need a good evaluation for my grade.”

“Sol, I’m not going to just sit around and let you be treated like this!”

“There’s nothing you can do, Cecelia.”

“I won’t play!”