I told myself I would take a day to think. One day turned into two. Two days turned into three. And things with Chase were getting increasingly strained. I wasn’t handling things well; I knew that. And in the past, any time I tried to resolve an issue, I inevitably made it worse. Somehow, I always tripped up. Things came out the wrong way, and everything blew up in my face.

It always turned into a fight, and I hated fighting.

Maybe I was being illogical, but it was like being scared of a spider—an irrational, physiological fear I could not seem to shake.

Was I overreacting? Probably. But I had been sucked into this vortex filled with horrible, familiar feelings, and I didn’t know how to get back out. Like being trapped in a pinball machine, rebounding back and forth between fear, hope, mistrust, and guilt.

Paul’s words played in my head like a broken record, setting off a vicious cycle of rumination. I’d waffle between dismissing it as ridiculous and second-guessing myself, wondering if it could be true. Sometimes, I considered talking to Chase about it, but if it was true, he would never admit it. And if it wasn’t, I didn’t want to upset—or insult—him.

I went over it again and again in my head.

The only conclusion I could come to was that I had no idea what to do.

* * *

CHASE

After days of heavy tension at home, one blowout fight, and tears I’d overheard while I was trying to sleep, Dallas and Siobhan finally made things official.

Ward was over the moon like a dopey puppy dog about the whole thing, and they’d been extra affectionate ever since.

I was happy for them. Really, I was.

Except something was going on with Bailey.

Holed up in my room after a disastrous practice, I stared at my phone like it would somehow reveal an answer. Rereading text messages for the tenth time didn’t provide any insight. Restless energy seized me, and I went downstairs because I couldn’t sit still.

As I hit the bottom step, I found Shiv curled up on the living room couch, highlighting something in a biology textbook. Asking her was worth a shot, I guessed.

“Have you talked to Bailey recently?” I propped myself up against the wall, trying and failing to sound casual.

She glanced up at me, yellow highlighter in midair. “Not a ton,” she said, looking thoughtful. “We’ve texted a bit, but she’s been busy with classes and packing.”

“Ah.” I nodded. That was the same line Bailey had fed me. Repeatedly.

“How come?” Shiv studied my face, dark brows crinkling.

“No reason.”

Except she’d been replying with one- and two-word texts for days, making vague excuses when I tried to make plans, and blowing me off in general. A total one-eighty from less than a week ago.