I wake up alone. In a bed foreign to me with a cold bag of water next to my face.

Sitting up, I see that I’m still in the t-shirt and jeans I was wearing last night. I check my phone and see no missed calls. Then I glance at the clock.

Fuck.

I stand up, searching the small-ass hotel room to make sure I have everything.

Wallet, check.

Phone, check.

Dirty clothes, check.

Morning breath, check check.

Rushing out of the hotel, luck is on my side because a taxi is waiting outside. I hop in and give Skylar’s parents’ address.

In the car, I rest my head against the cold window, having to piece little chunks of time together to make sense of everything that happened last night. I kissed her. A smile creases my cracked lips. Vin punched me. Good for him. I’m sure I deserved it. My fingers gently touch my cheek. It’s still sore and probably black and blue. I haven’t bothered to look in a mirror yet. I know we screamed at one another. In the middle of a bar. Her tears, freely flowing without a care who saw her. It’s so not Skylar to lay herself out there like that.

I wince at my actions and how much I drank. It was my thirtieth, but I should’ve limited my alcohol consumption. I had too much turmoil inside. Something was bound to snap.

The taxi stops in front of the house and I pay the man and make my own walk of shame up the concrete path to the front door.

I ring the doorbell. Me using a key after what I’ve done doesn’t seem right.

“Hey,” Demi answers, her hair askew, her pajamas still on.

“Is she here?” I walk into the house that doesn’t hold that same warm feeling it did weeks ago. These people hate me, just like her now, and I have the black eye to prove it.

“No. I think she’s at her sister’s.”

I head up the stairs and pack up my room. I’m done taking a shower early enough to catch my flight. I stand in the hallway, staring at her childhood bedroom door.

Fuck this.

I open the door, stepping into her personal space one last time. I pick up a few pictures tacked to the corkboard above her desk. Her easy going, soft welcoming smile can be found in every picture. She always did steal the room when she walked in.

Sitting down in her chair, I find a piece of paper and a pen, hoping to make the sting of what happened between us less hurtful. She has to know the truth. That I’ve loved her since the first time I saw her, I was just too chicken shit to admit it. How lucky she is to escape the coward I am. But hopefully she understands I never meant to shut her out, or to hurt her. That I was sheltering her from a part of me that’s as foreign as a rainforest is to her.

I place the note on her desk, stand and dig out my key to the house, putting it down on top, then tuck her desk chair back under the desk. Moving to the bed, I know I’m intruding. She doesn’t want me here, but I lift her pillow to my nose and inhale the scent of her. Closing my eyes, I let the smell of vanilla wash over me. I put it back exactly how she had it and put my duffle bag over my shoulder, closing the door behind me.

“Leaving?” Dax asks, shirtless with athletic shorts showing off way more than I want to see.

“Yeah. Make sure she’s okay?”

“We’re sticking around for awhile. Demi’s trying to really piss off her mom by staying away as long as she can.” He chuckles, but his lips go firm. “You sure this is what you want?”

“I’ve overstayed my welcome. It’s too late.”

“It’s never too late for a stud like you.”

A tight smile I don’t feel tips the corners of my lips. “It is.”

I shake his hand and do a one arm hug.

“Hey, let’s get together soon. Plan a guy’s trip.” He shakes his head. “Did I just say that shit?”

A real laugh flows out of me now. “Yeah, you did, but it’s on.”

We stand in the foyer looking at each other for a minute.

“I thought I heard you. You going to Park City?” Grady walks down the stairs, fully showered and clothed.

“Yeah, my flight leaves in a few hours.”

A honk outside signals that my Uber is here, so I grab my suitcase, give Grady a one arm hug. “Tell Mia I say bye.”

“Will do.”

The two of them stand on either side of me, finally not trying to convince me to change.

I open the door, stepping back out into the mild air. It feels like true spring is just around the corner. With one last wave to my friends, I put my luggage into the trunk of the Uber and climb in.

“O’Hare Airport.”

The guy nods, shifts into drive, checks his mirrors a couple of times before he starts to pull away from the curb. Did he just get his license? Let’s fucking go. He slams on the brakes and my head stops inches before the headrest.

“Are they coming?” he asks, looking over at the house.

“Nah,” I say, turning to look when my door opens and a shirtless Dax slides in.

“Come on. The weather might’ve warmed up, but this is Chicago for fuck’s sake. My balls are shriveling up.”

I slide across the seat—why, I have no idea.

The other door opens and in hops Grady.

“Okay, guys, I’m squeezed like a hot dog in here.”

“Bad analogy, Hoff,” Grady says, taps on the headrest. “You can go.”

The driver listens to the person who isn’t going to pay him and turns his wheel to get out of the parallel parking position.

“Get out of the car,” I say.

“I wanted to let your sorry ass leave. I really did,” Dax says. “I’m so exhausted with your bullshit, believe me. You’re ruining my high of getting laid on a constant basis. Seriously, I thought I was a nympho, but Demi, man, I’m barely keeping up.”

“Thank you. Thank you for that piece of information.”

“It’s the perks of a relationship. Am I right, Grady?” He looks past me.

“I have no complaints.” Grady shrugs.

“If this is your ‘go buy Skylar a ring campaign because I’ll get laid all the time,’ I have some information for you. It won’t last. Sooner or later, you’re not going to be as attracted to her. She’s going to see you lying around, not doing jackshit and she’ll be rolling over leaving your sorry ass.”

She’ll figure out you’re not good enough I don’t add. Or maybe that’s only true in my case.

He circles his finger around his face. “She’ll never deny this gorgeous mug.”

I roll my eyes. “Thanks for the pep talk guys, but we can chat about this another time.” I glance at the time on the car display. “I have a flight to catch.”

“Told you. Waste of fucking time.” Dax speaks his mind openly to Grady.

“Hoff, it was my idea to jump in the car—”

“Captain obvious, I’m not wearing a shirt.”

Grady shakes his head at Dax’s interruption. “If you get on that plane, shit, you’re already so deep in that hole, man. As your friend, I can’t in good conscience let you ruin your life.”

“I’m not—”

“You fucking are!” He raises his voice, so much so that the Uber driver grabs his cell phone and puts it in his hand. Like he’ll call the cops if need be. Where was he last night when Vin flattened me like a fucking pancake?

“I know I had a happy childhood. Shit, my parents live and breathe for me. Brag about me, worry about me. And Mia’s got that too.”

“Thanks, I feel so much better now,” I deadpan.

“You’re going to live your life alone because two crappy, careless people who happen to have gotten together one night and fucked, screwed you over before they even knew how awesome you are? You’re not them. You don’t even know who the hell they are. Nor do I think you care. So, why are you letting the fact that they left you thirty years ago ruin your life now? I get that you have issues. I get you’re worried that she’s going to wake up one day and be like, who the hell is this jackass I married?”

“Marriage.” Dax cringes. “You’re pulling out the big guns there.”

“Dax,” Grady sighs.

“You spent all this time keeping your distance from her because you were scared you’d lose her, but look, Beck, you lost her despite all that. Do you really think she’ll ever be your friend again?”

I say nothing as the Uber pulls into the airport.

“She won’t. Sure, you’ll have to see each other at mine and Dax’s wedding.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Dax holds his hands up in the air. “Let’s not throw my name in the mix.”

Grady tilts his head because we both know Dax might walk down that aisle before Grady. Dax’s silence and the way he’s rolling his eyes says we’re right.

“Baby showers, barbecues, hell in a couple years we’ll all be back at training and competing,” Grady continues on with his lecture. “You might be cordial, but the friendship you had, it died. So, you can get on that plane…”

The car stops, and the Uber guy turns around, seeming enthralled with Grady’s inspirational speech.

“And leave her behind—”

“Or you can fight for her,” the Uber driver adds.

“Exactly,” Grady agrees. “Because, Beckett, you’re always too busy pointing the finger at yourself. How screwed up you are, but after this, Skylar’s the one who thinks she’s screwed up. She’s thinking for some reason she’s not good enough for you.”

“Thanks for that.” I pay the Uber driver on my phone leaving him an extra few dollar tip for having to listen to these two ramble the entire ride, then nudge Dax to get out.

“Nope. Make the right call here.”

Dax looks to Grady for some sort of advice. “Let him go, Dax. You’re right, it’s hopeless.”

Dax sighs, opening the door and stepping out.

“Excuse me, Sir, you cannot come into this airport without a shirt or shoes,” an attendant screams, running over to us.

“Well, this has been eventful. Have a safe flight buddy. Text me when you land.” Dax pats me on the shoulders, hopping back into the car as I walk through the sliding doors.

Out of Chicago and out of Skylar Walsh’s life.