Spring Tide (Coastal University Book 1)

I’m on my second helping of Stella’s homemade pumpkin pie when I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pull it out, the sight of Luca’s name instantly filling my body with warmth.

“Hey, babe!” I chirp, dashing into the other room for privacy. “I’m so glad you called. How was—”Belongs © to NôvelDrama.Org.

“Harper?” Luca’s ragged voice cuts me off. “I really need your help.”

My stomach drops, an acute sense of dread washing over me. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m hurt,” he croaks out. “I can’t get myself up off the ground in order to make it back to my car. I know you’re with your friends, but I don’t want to involve my parents in this, and Taylor’s out of town.” He’s silent for a few long minutes, voice dropping to a tortured whisper, “I didn’t know who else to call.”

“No, I’m so glad you called me.” I reach for my coat, frantically slipping it over my shoulders. “What happened? Where are you?”

“I fell and hit my knee. I’m outside of some kid’s house, a friend of Elio’s.” His breathing is shallow, carefully measured. I can almost visualize him crumpled on the ground—alone and hurting—and it makes me want to burst into tears. “I can text you the address.”

I slip my shoes on, hopping on one foot as I gather up my purse. “Okay, um, you said your car is there?”

“Yeah, I parked a few blocks away.”

“Should I bring Stell?” I swallow, fear clenching in my gut. It’s an uneasy, ugly sort of feeling. A worry so deep it resonates in my bones. “She can drive my car so we don’t have to worry about coming back for yours later.”

“Oh, shit. Er, is there anyone bigger you can bring?”

“Bigger?”

“Like a guy, maybe. Someone who could help me walk.” The pain in his voice grates inside my head. “I don’t know if you girls will be able to get me into a car.”

“Oh, I could try and give Fletcher a call?” Shit, shit, shit. I highly doubt Fletcher would do me any favors right now, but I’m kind of running short on male friendships these days. “I don’t know that he’d actually come, considering he and Eden are on the outs right now.”

“No, not Fletcher.” He groans, a frustrated sigh slipping out. “And please don’t involve Eden, either. I don’t want this to get back to Coach.”

I rack my brain for a solution. “What about some of the guys on the baseball team?”

“No, sorry.” He swears under his breath, mumbling something I can’t quite understand. “I don’t trust those guys. I guess, just—”

“I have access to the DME trailer,” I say, suddenly hopeful. “I could grab some crutches for you, but it’s gonna take some extra time to get there.”

“Okay, that’s perfect.”

With my fingers anxiously tapping against my phone, I walk back out to the kitchen. Stella and Lai’Lani are sitting at the table together, blissfully unaware, chatting and kissing in between bites of pumpkin pie. Muting the call, I give them a quick rundown of the situation.

Unfortunately, it’s going to take us at least fifteen minutes to run to campus for the crutches, then another thirty to make it over to Luca.

In one last-ditch effort, I unmute the call and ask, “Are you sure you don’t want me to call an ambulance?”

“That’ll probably take just as long,” he says, exhaustion filtering through his words. “It’s also way too fucking expensive.”

“I could pay for—”

He huffs, cutting me off. “Please don’t start that right now.”

“Okay, okay.” I grab my keys off the entryway table, tossing them to Stella. “We’re on our way, alright? Just hang tight.”

When we arrive on the scene, Luca’s sitting by himself on the pavement. He’s perched up with both arms behind him, legs stretched out. There’s a pile of vomit to his right and a wide rip in the knee of his jeans. At least there doesn’t seem to be a lot of blood, but I brought a first aid kit just in case.

As soon as Stella cuts the engine, I dart out of my passenger seat, crouching down beside him.

“Oh my God,” I murmur, quickly scanning his body from head to toe. “Why are you out here all alone? How’d this even happen?”

“I got into it with my brother.” He glances behind me, cheeks flushing, tensing as he takes note of Stella’s presence. “I think it was partially an accident on his part, but then he left me here to rot.”

“Oh, Luca.” I lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’ll be fine.” He closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose, shakes his head. “I just need to get off this cold ground.”

I wave Stella over to bring us the crutches. As a ragtag team, we carefully hoist Luca up off the ground, one of us tucked underneath either side of him. It’s difficult due to his size, but we manage to make it work.

Once the crutches are in place, he’s able to hold himself up well enough to slide into my car. I hop in the back seat, while Stella drives us the few blocks over to his Outback.

As I help him maneuver back out, he tosses a bashful “thank you” over his shoulder to my roommate.

“I’m gonna take him to the ER,” I tell her quietly, one hand poised on the small of Luca’s back. “I’ll see you at the apartment tomorrow.”

“I hope everything goes okay,” she says, her smile filled with sympathy.

“Me too,” I murmur. “Thanks for your help.”

Luca’s car is a bit smaller than mine, so it takes some extra finagling to get him situated. He adjusts the passenger seat as far back as it’ll go, attempting to stretch his leg out while I switch the car into drive.

As we pull out of the neighborhood, there’s a tense, awkward silence that fills the air. I don’t want to be the first to break it because I’m not so sure Luca can even hear himself think.

“I’m sorry, Harper,” he eventually says, pure anguish marring his handsome face.

“Don’t be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

He drops his head into his hands. “I ruined your night with your friends.”

“You didn’t ruin anything, okay?” I reach for him, one hand clutched tightly on the steering wheel. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be. We’re gonna take you to the doctor to get checked out, and everything’s gonna be okay.”

“Okay,” he whispers back.

A sorrow-filled expression sits on his face for two more long hours, the total length of time we sit together in the ER waiting room. When the nurse finally calls him back, I breathe a sweet sigh of relief.

I couldn’t take another second of his silent, heavy wallowing.

It’s not that I’m bothered by him being upset, but the inability to offer any tangible support is making my skin crawl. At least, after his visit with the doctor, we’ll be able to come up with a solid plan moving forward. That will make us both feel better, I’m sure of it.

When Luca wobbles out on his crutches thirty minutes later, he holds up his discharge papers with a tight near smile.

“Good news is that there’s no break or fracture,” he says, slipping into step beside me.

“Dislocation?”

“Yep, with a minor ligament tear. Same place as before.” He hands me the papers as we head back out to the car. I quickly scan them over, relief flooding me when I confirm the results for myself—no break, no fracture, just a patellar dislocation. Adjusted, corrected, and on its way to healing. “The doctor relocated it, but it’s gonna take anywhere from three to six weeks to heal up.”

“Oh, that’s such good news.”

“Could be worse, I guess.” He shrugs, puffing out a heavy breath. “He says I need to completely immobilize it for at least a week. I don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna do about Saturday’s game.”

“You need to talk to your coach about it first, right?” I wrinkle my nose. “Come up with a plan for healing.”

“Oh, fuck no.” He scoffs, patting the side of his crutches. “He’s not gonna know anything about this.”

I stop in my tracks, one hand softly grazing his shoulder. “Luca, this is really serious.”

“I’ve done this before, remember? I just need to come up with a valid excuse to stay off the field for the next couple of games, and I’ll be fine.”

“That’s really not a good idea. I think you need to—”

“Can we please talk about this later?” He all but snaps the question, face pinched with frustration. “I just want to go home, ice my knee, and try to forget this night ever happened.”

“Okay, yeah, of course.” I drop my gaze to his chest. “I’ll drive us back to your place.”

The next morning, it’s nearing ten o’clock by the time Luca starts to stir. Thankfully, it’s still Thanksgiving break, so we don’t have classes or practice to think about right now. And he already texted his parents last night, telling them not to worry. I’m not sure exactly what excuse he gave them, but I know he’s not quite ready to open up to them yet.

It’s for the best, anyway. He needs to tackle this one problem at a time, otherwise, he’s going to burn himself out too quickly.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” I quietly murmur, running my fingers through his rumpled hair. “Can I get you anything?”

“Would you grab the crutches for me?” he rasps, stretching his arms above his head and turning onto his side. “I just want to get up, get this day started, and figure out a plan of action.”

“Of course.” I press a kiss to his shoulder before hopping out of bed, his T-shirt dangling halfway down my body. “Do you want to talk over how you’re gonna tell your coach?”

He presses both palms to his temples, groaning. “Like I said last night, I’m not telling him anything about the injury.”

“This isn’t like last time, Luca.” I tuck his crutches against the side of his bed frame, helping him maneuver into a standing position. “You’re just now recovered from your previous injury, and now you’ve re-torn the same ligament. That’s another six long weeks of healing.”

“Three weeks, Harper,” he bites out. “The doctor said I can heal in as little as three weeks, which means I can still play in a bowl game. It also leaves me open for postseason all-stars.”

“You’re putting your health and safety in jeopardy if you do that.” I furrow my brows, anxiously scratching at my forearm. “I don’t understand the harm in speaking with your coach about this. If you’re truly healed in time, then he’ll let you play anyway.”

“You know our athletic trainers always err on the side of caution.” He shakes his head, expression slipping into a blank slate. “I can’t risk that happening here.”

“I’m normally always on your side, but I honestly don’t think I can condone this.”

“That’s fine.” He cocks his head to one side, tone flat. “I don’t need your permission.”

“Luca, come on,” I plead, emotion clogging my throat.

His nostrils flare as he attempts to turn away from me, breaking any last semblance of eye contact. “I think I’m finished with this conversation now.”

“Please?” I give him one last chance. “If you won’t talk to your coach about this, then I’m gonna have to contact Jaqui Nerrie myself.”

“Like hell you are.”

“I’m trying to look out for you here,” I say softly, carefully, willing him to understand how serious this truly is. “You have so much going on right now, I’m worried you’re not thinking clearly.”

“I’m thinking perfectly clearly.” He takes a deep, shuddery breath. “And I know that if you contact anyone on my team, you and I are done.”

I reel back, stomach dropping like a lead weight. “What?”

“If you go to the team’s athletic trainer behind my back, then I don’t see how this relationship can continue.”

My heart beats faster and faster, pounding in my eardrums now. I bite the inside of my cheek, forcing myself to be patient with him. He’s hurting and he’s panicking, that’s all.

Everyone says things they don’t mean when they’re in a bad mental state.

“You don’t really mean that,” I say, my shaky voice betraying my doubts.

“I don’t need you interfering in my life, Harper.” His tone is eerily calm—patronizing almost—as if he’s talking to a child. “I’ve done just fine on my own for twenty-two years, okay? Stay out of this, I’m begging you.”

“I don’t think I can do that.” I keep my gaze on his face, worrying at my lower lip. “We can figure this out together, and everything will be okay, I promise.”

“You just don’t get it, do you?” His cool, careless façade finally cracks. “You’ve spent your whole life living in some sunshiny alternate reality, pretending everything is just peachy. Because for you, it always has been. Meanwhile, I’m stuck down here in reality with the rest of the world. You know, that place where people have real fucking problems to deal with.”

“Oh.” His words sting. Like a hand on a hot stove, they burn me without warning. “Silly me, I thought you said I was perfect.”

“Harper . . .”

“Is that really what you think of me?” I let the hurt wash over me, pull me under, drown me so completely. “That I couldn’t possibly understand you?”

“Sometimes it seems that way.”

“I see,” I croak, caught off guard by his admission. I had no clue he felt this way about me. In fact, before today, I was pretty damn certain he felt the opposite. “I suppose it’s nice to know how you really feel. Do you even care that I love y—”

“Harper, don’t.” He pins me with a harsh gaze, cracking me into a hundred tiny pieces. “Don’t say something you don’t mean.”

“Why on earth would you think I don’t mean it?”

“Because you fall in love like it’s a goddamn hobby. And I really, really can’t handle hearing something that’s not real, not right now.”

Shame and embarrassment cloud my vision, shaking me out of the numb sort of daze I put myself under. “You don’t take me seriously at all, do you?”

“I-I’m sorry.” He scrubs a hand over his face, propping a fist under his chin. “I’m not trying to hurt you. I think, right now, I just need space.”

Space, space, space. The word ricochets inside my head, sending me into full-blown meltdown mode.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I need some time to figure things out on my own, without you around.”

Tears well up in the corners of my eyes. “So, to be clear, you’re breaking up with me right now?”

He stares at the floor, voice dropped to a volume that’s barely audible, yet somehow, it still pierces my ears. “Yeah, yeah, I guess I am.”

“Wow.” A single tear slips free, trailing down the bridge of my nose and silently dripping onto the floor between us. “I really don’t know to make you believe that I’m in love with you. And I’m certainly not going to beg you to love me back. You want to deal with things your own way, alone, then be my guest.”

I gather up my clothes, my shoes, and my purse, slipping my pants on under his T-shirt. Reaching for the door to his bedroom, I spare him one last glance. “I really hope everything works out for you in the end.”

Without another word, I turn on my heel and slip out of the room, the silent tears streaming down my face. As I scramble down the hallway, poised to leave, the sound of Luca calling out my name rings heavy in the stale air.

But no matter how much I might want to, I can’t bring myself to turn around and face him again. There’s nothing left inside of me for him to break. So instead, I continue on, walking myself right on out of Luca’s life.

Just like he fucking asked me to.