The Girl in the Love Song (Lost Boys 1)

“Maybe. But God, it shouldn’t be this complicated, right? It’s like we’re at opposite ends of a maze, and every time we get close, someone takes a wrong turn.”

“Explain to him about River,” Shiloh said. “He’ll understand. It’s not like you cheated on him.”

“Feels like it.” I sucked in a breath. “But yes, I’ll talk to him. We need to talk. We’ve needed to talk since forever.”

“No argument from me there.”

“I gotta go, Shi,” I said. “Practice is about to start.”

“Enjoy. Be safe.”

“I will.”

I dropped my phone back in my duffel and jogged onto the practice field. We ran drills, and I wove in and out of cones with the ball on automatic, my thoughts running ahead of me. The practice scrimmage began, and I couldn’t focus. Twice, Coach Brimner pulled me aside for making stupid mistakes.

“You okay?” she asked. “You’ve been all over the place lately.”

“Yeah, sorry. I’ll pull myself together.”

“You do that, or I’ll pull you from Saturday’s game.”

I sucked in a breath, pissed at myself for being at the mercy of my feelings for Miller, yet again. Angela Marino was dribbling the ball down the field toward me. I charged at her, sliding with one leg out, determined to punch the ball out of her possession and show Coach I wasn’t a lost cause. That I was stronger than that.

I slid too hard, too fast. Grass flew. Cleats and shin guards filled my vision. Angela grunted, trying to jump over me.

The last thing I saw was her kneecap driving toward my head and then nothing.

Chapter Seventeen

I woke to see the vast white landscape. A bed. Confusion clouded my thoughts; I had no clue where I was, until I spied the hospital wristband on my left arm. Last night came back in bits and pieces. The doctors had huddled with my anxious parents, telling them I’d suffered a concussion. Scans showed no bleeds or swelling, but since I’d been knocked out cold, they wanted to keep me overnight. Finally, close to dawn, they let me sleep.

My head ached and my stomach felt queasy. I started to try to go back to sleep, when a dark blue blur near the window shifted. I blinked the blur into focus. Miller. He was curled sideways in a chair, his long legs tucked up and his head pillowed on his knees. His guitar and backpack on the floor beside him.

Tears sprang to my eyes.

He’s here.

“Hi.”

My voice was in tatters, but Miller shot awake instantly. He unfolded his tall form and hurried to my bedside, still half asleep.

“Hey.” He dropped into the chair beside me. Stubble shadowed his jaw; dark circles ringed his eyes. “How are you? How are you feeling?”

“Hurts a little, but I’m okay. Better now. How long have you been here?”

“All night.”

“You’ve been here all night?” The hospital room was chilled, but I suddenly felt warm all over.

He nodded. “Shiloh was here for a while, but her grandmother called her home. She wanted me to tell you she hopes you get well soon, and if you don’t, she’ll kick your ass.”

“She’s sentimental that way.”

“Your parents were here late, too, but I told them I’d take the next watch,” Miller said. “Your mom wasn’t too keen on me hanging around, but I wasn’t going anywhere. I fought like hell to try to see you, but they wouldn’t let me in until your dad said it was okay.”

“I’m so glad you fought like hell.”

Miller’s jaw clenched. “I should’ve done it sooner. Years ago. Fought for you.”