Page 18 of Gamebreaker

Can't sleep either. That dinner was rough.

Cam

My fault.

Trish

Both of your faults. You both said things you shouldn't have. You both crossed lines.

I waited, watching the three dots that meant she was still typing.

Trish

Harper asked Isla for your number. Wants to apologize for the privacy thing. For not realizing.

My pulse kicked hard against my throat. I told it to calm down, to remember this meant nothing, that Harper hated me and I'd given her every reason to.

It didn't listen.

Cam

She doesn't need to apologize.

Trish

She feels bad. Didn't realize you were closeted. Feels like she pushed where she shouldn't have.

Cam

Not in the mood to discuss this right now.

Trish

Fine. But Cam? She's not wrong about the authenticity thing. You know that, right?

I stared at the message for a long time, watching the words blur and refocus.

Cam

Yeah. I know.

Trish

Good. Get some sleep. Practice in 4 hours.

Cam

You too.

I set my phone down, face-up on the nightstand, where the screen glowed in the darkness.

Harper was thinking about me. Wanted to apologize. Which meant she was possibly lying awake at two AM, the same as me, replaying that disaster of a dinner, feeling some echo of the same regret that was currently eating me alive.

The thought shouldn't have satisfied me the way it did. Shouldn't have sent warmth through my chest, shouldn't have made me feel less alone in my insomnia.

I did anyway.

I rolled onto my side, pulled the covers up to my chin like that would protect me from my own thoughts.