Free Rush by Shae Ross Page A

the landing. My pulse sprints as my body crashes into the giant pillow. I land half on top of her, and she lets loose an involuntary oomph that socks my heart.
    “Are you all right?” I ask, raising my upper body over her. She’s lying on her back still and silent, staring at me for a long beat.
    Her mouth is open and she’s shaking her head slowly. “No. I am not all right.” Her words begin with a forceful bite but morph into outright distress on the repeat. “I am not all right,” she says, and I know from the tremble of her bottom lip she’s not talking about the fall. She clamps her mouth shut, squeezes her eyes closed, and turns a cheek to the mattress.
    I climb onto my knees, reach for her shoulders, and pull her gently up. “You’re killing me here, Priscilla. You’ve got to tell me what happened.”
    I give her a minute, and the silence expands as she studies her hands in her lap.
    “Look, I can let you keep taking shots at me if you want, but its not going to fix your problem,” I say in a firm voice.
    “Makes me feel better,” she murmurs—more to herself than to me, but I answer her anyway.
    “But it doesn’t solve your problem, and I can’t help you unless you tell me.”
    She pauses a beat, twisting her lips and watching me with a wary expression, but I can see the fight dying in her eyes and she speaks in a resigned tone. “I had my hearing on Friday. I needed you to appear as my witness.You were my only witness. I asked you to come in that letter I left for you.”
    “What happened?” I ask, steadying my jaw against the impending bad fucking news.
    “I’m suspended. I can’t play soccer for the rest of the season.”
    I blink hard, sitting back on my heels, letting her words sink in. Jesus. She’s totally screwed—all because she was trying to help me. The air mattress thumps as she throws herself backward and lies still.
    Groaning in frustration, I flip onto my back and lie beside her. Blue skies above—nothing but blue skies and another mess I’ve created. I hold a clenched fist against my pounding head as thoughts pinball through my brain.
    “This is not the kind of problem I need right now.” My voice is low grumble, but not low enough. I hadn’t meant to say it out loud at all, but I did, and the quick shift of the pillow under my back tells me she heard every word.
    “Hey,” I say, reaching for her as she’s sitting up. She pushes onto all fours, and I see a tear glistening over the smooth skin of her cheek as she whirls away.
    “Priscilla, wait.” I stand and lunge, catching up to her in three bouncing steps.
    “I’m not your problem,” she grits out, her voice breaking.
    “I didn’t mean it that way.” God, I’m an ass. “Let me help you.”
    She shakes her head, raising a hand to her face and letting out a small sound that chokes me. The air mattress ripples under my feet—reinforcing how my whole world is on tilt. I have the urge to jam the butt of my hand against my head—as if I could knock everything back on track and regain the equilibrium I seem to have lost since I met her. The weight disparity between us is making it impossible to stand still, and the mattress sinks again. She wobbles against me, raising her hands to push off from my chest, but I circle my arms around her before she can, and her body caves into mine. I hold her close, pressing my cheek against her hair. “I’m sorry. If I had known about your hearing, I would have been there, I swear. Let me help you.”
    “It’s too late.” Gulping in a breath, she shakes her head against my neck. “We’re on our way to the championship games this year. In thirty minutes they ended everything I’ve worked for—took me out of the game forever.”
    I tighten my hold and stroke a hand up her back, speaking low next to her ear, trying to reassure her. “We’ll figure something out.”
    I may have been willing to risk my own neck for the last three years, but now that my problems have