Page 24 of Broken Saint
“Sure,” Luca mutters as we make our way down the dark blue hallways with the Saints logo stretched out along the long walls.
Music from the locker room gets louder as we take the final turn, and when we burst inside, we find Sanchez has his cell hooked up to the speakers like always. I’m not sure who decided he had the best playlists, but he seems to have taken on the role with ease.
Luca, Kane, and I all head for our lockers to start getting our heads in the game.
Before long, we’re all taped up with our pads and uniforms in place, ready for our final warm-up before the game.
Luca comes to stand next to me while Kane hovers by his locker with his cell pinned to his ear.
“Letty?” I ask. I’ve no idea why I bother; we all know it’s her. It’s part of his pre-game ritual. She’s his good luck charm, apparently, and short of smuggling her in here for a pre-game fuck, a phone call is the best he can get.
“You know it,” he confirms, watching our friend with amused eyes. Fuck knows why; he’s just as whipped.
“How do you do it?” The question is out of my mouth before I’ve managed to catch it.
Luca’s eyes turn to me, the black on his cheekbones making the green of his irises seem brighter under the electric light of the locker room.
“Do what?” he asks, not following my train of thought. And honestly, why should he? I’ve made it more than clear what I want out of life—or more so, women—over the years. I don’t even know why I’m asking. It’s not like I have any intentions of changing things anytime soon.
Morbid curiosity, I guess.
“Forget it. It was a stupid question.”
I push from the bench, ready to leave this conversation behind, but his hand wraps around my shoulder, dragging me back.
“What did you mean?”
I sigh, raking my fingers through my hair, pulling until it hurts.
“Letty, Peyton. This life,” I say, gesturing to the guys and the locker room around us. “How do you do it?”
He studies me, his eyes bouncing between mine as he attempts to read between the lines.
“It’s…I dunno.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Normal, I guess. They’ve both been with us since MKU, so they know what this life is like. How demanding it is during the season.”
“Don’t you worry about being away too much? About missing stuff? Not knowing what they’re doing?”
“I trust Peyton completely, if that’s what you’re getting at,” he says with a scowl.
“No, that’s not…I don’t know what I’m getting at,” I confess, ripping my eyes from him in favor of staring down at my cleats.
I should be focused on the game. On the season. But for some reason, my head is full of all this shit that has no place there.
“Have you met someone?” Luca asks suddenly.
“What? No.” Silence falls between us, although the excitement surrounding us doesn’t lessen.
“But you…want to?”
“Fuck no. I dunno, man. Seeing Sawyer again…I guess it’s just taken me back.”
“Ell—”
“Don’t. Just…don’t.”
“What’s going on?” Kane asks, his brows pinched together as he looks between the two of us.
“Nothing,” I spit. “I need to get my fucking head in the game.”