Unloved: Chapter 20

My entire mood postgame is always determined by how I played—win or lose—and tonight, a certain curly haired tutor was in the stands, which should make me happier. But instead, I’m wallowing.

I played like . My turnovers were highest on the damn team, as our lovely assistant coach reminded me for ten minutes postgame. And for to be Ro’s first time watching me, I’m upset, disappointed… embarrassed. I can barely read, suck at math, and now the one thing I’m supposed to be incredible at, I’m failing in front of her.

, my brain kindly reminds me. I grunt in frustration as I grip my bag a little too harshly.

“Tell Ro and her friends ‘thank you for coming,’ ” Rhys says, patting my back as he passes by. “Was really nice of her.”

I nod. “She’s great.”

But I’m almost certain he doesn’t hear me because he’s already putting in his headphones. I swear, he never has them of his ears.

Following behind him, I’m nearly to the bus when a meaty hand grasps my shoulder—almost too hard. I wince.

“Fuck, Reiny—” I cut myself off at the incensed look on his face. “You okay?”

He tilts his head back.

“Whoever she was here with left her here.”

I look over, following where he’s gesturing to see Ro, sitting on the ground against the brick of the stadium building. A curse bursts from my lips, but I don’t say a word to Bennett before I’m jogging across to her.

It isn’t very cold, but she’s shivering as I approach.

“Ro?” My voice is calm, tentative, but I plaster on a smile to hopefully soothe her.

She looks up at me, a little shell-shocked. Her hazel eyes are red and swollen, hair falling from the pretty high ponytail she was sporting when I first spotted her behind the glass.

I hate how small she looks. I hate the way my body feels like it’s looming over her, so I drop down into a low squat, my thighs screaming in protest. I may have played like shit, but I sure as hell pushed myself too hard for a goddamn exhibition game.

“Freddy,” she stutters. “Hey.” She smiles, too, and it warms my heart as much as it rips it to shreds. “You were amazing.”

“I really, really wasn’t.” I shake my head, ducking my eyes from her. “But thank you for coming.”

“It was really cool.” She smiles, but her eyes look waterlogged. “Just now leaving?”

I nod behind me.

“Team bus is about to head out.” I bite my lip, taking a few breaths so my voice is calm when I ask, “Are you okay, Ro?”

“Y-yeah!” She nods rapidly. “I’m just about to call an Uber.”

My brow furrows. “Where are your friends? Tyler?”

“He, um… They left. Tyler drove me here, but I—” Her voice breaks off into a rough sob, one it’s clear she was trying to swallow before it escaped.

A curse falls from my lips as I kneel completely and crawl to her, pulling her up and folding her slender form into my body.

“Shh,” I coo. “You’re okay.” I stroke her back as we both kneel on the concrete.

I try to give her as much time as she needs in my embrace. How many times have I wished for exactly this? For someone to give me simple affection and ask nothing else of my body? True comfort.

So I can give her this. I want to, desperately.

And not just for how good it feels to be needed, but for how it feels to be needed by someone like .

Because I respect Ro; I look up to her, like a role model. She is kind and welcoming, helpful—and there’s no ulterior motive.

She’s creative and strong and independent. She’s nothing like me. She doesn’t need other people’s praise to feel like she’s something. Doesn’t need pretty words to drown out the echoes of the ugly ones always shouted in my dad’s voice.

Ro doesn’t anyone.

But right now, she’s in my arms and I’m the one giving comfort.

I bask in it.

There’s no way in hell I’m letting her ride an hour back into town alone at 10 p.m. at night in a rideshare. I’ll carry her the entire fifty-something miles back to Waterfell before I let that happen.

“Rosalie?”

Saying her full name feels intimate in the quiet dark, pressed against each other like this. Still, she looks up and pulls away, gently wiping beneath her eyes.

“S-sorry.”

I shake my head. “Nah, none of that.” I try to pull a smile from her with one of my own. “Can you wait here for me to check on something?”

Her eyes scrunch, but she nods and sits back down, moving her long, lean legs to stretch out in front of her.

My skin feels too tight, heart thundering and mind scrambled as I make my way to the bus where Bennett is standing next to Coach Harris. They both stop speaking as I approach.

It isn’t until I’m standing next to them both that I realize I left my bag with Ro.

“Your girl okay, Freddy?” Coach asks, brushing a hand through his short, well-kept beard. His stance is serious, face displaying zero hints of how he feels, as usual.

“She’s my tutor. And she got left here. Is there any way I can ride back with her? I don’t want her to go alone.”

Coach purses his lips and shakes his head mildly, straightening his suit jacket. “You know the school would have my ass if I let you break that rule. You have to ride back with us.”

My stomach drops while my mind flies in thirty different directions, trying to come up with some sort of plan.

“What’s her name?”

“Ro, sir.”

“Tell Ro she can ride on the team bus.”

My eyes widen. “Really?”

He looks offended. “I would never leave a woman stranded, Fredderic. Have a little more faith in me than that.”

“Of course, Coach.” I smile and nod, resisting the urge to pick him up and twirl the man around in the air with my gratefulness. Instead, I jog back to Ro and quickly convince her to get on the bus. She is hesitant, but agrees, which helps to finally relax some of the tension in my shoulders.

Only some.

Ro is quiet, holding her arms around her middle in a way that makes my stomach hurt. Small and curled in on herself, she walks up the short stairs of the charter bus. The chattering stutters to silence as the guys spot the leggy brunette decked out in Waterfell gear and I say a silent prayer that none of them makes a joke.

The anxiety of it is enough to make me wish she was here with someone else, someone worthy of her. That no one would raise their eyebrow at me to ask if I was bringing her home or assume silently that I’m sleeping with her.

Ro doesn’t deserve that.

Rhys stands and wrinkles his brow, stopping her midstride with a soft touch to her arm.

“You okay?” he asks, voice low.

“I’m fine.” She matches the quiet whisper of his voice. “Please, please, don’t tell Sadie about this.”

Sadie, the figure skater our beloved good-guy captain enjoys breaking his heart over.

It’s strange for me to remember that Ro is best friends with a girl nearly infamous for her unapproachable demeanor and bad behavior—a stark contrast to the vibrant, friendly, and almost overwhelmingly welcoming Rosalie.

I shake my head and stare back up at my captain.

Rhys looks like he wants to protest, but at my hard glare from behind her, he nods.

“I won’t.”

I point to the empty row two seats behind Rhys, letting Ro go first and slide in.

Before I can follow her, Rhys grabs my bicep and lowers his voice, mouth nearly at my ear to whisper, “I wouldn’t classify this as hands-off.”

There’s a bitterness to the smile I grant him. “I’m not sleeping with her, Rhysie. No need to issue me a citation for getting too close to your bratty figure skater’s roommate.”

He lets the barb slide, but his grip on my arm tightens.

“Ro is Sadie’s best friend. I’m just watching out for her.”

“And who exactly is watching out for you?” I ask, a little miffed.

, I want to add. Instead, I swallow down the words like sand, grating as I smother them. “Someone needs to. You’re gonna get hurt by her.”

“Watch it,” he snaps, fierce in his protectiveness over the girl he “isn’t” dating.

“Ro’s tutoring me. That’s it,” I sigh, ducking my head closer to him. “And she got left here—hours outside of town—by her asshole boyfriend, okay?”

Rhys bites his lip and relaxes his grip. “That Donaldson kid was an asshole to her in front of me the one time I met him. Sorry, Freddy. I think I’m just…”

I wait for him to finish.

I wait for anything to show me that my friend needs me.

That he trusts me enough to need me.

But he smiles and shrugs, patting me on the back and settling into his seat again, slamming his headphones back into his ears aggressively.