67.

BRYNN.

Felix obviously doesn’t want me here. If the seventeen calls I left over the past hours—I was desperate—wasn’t enough indication, then the way he’s staring at me right now as our eyes meet probably is.

He doesn’t want me here.

And maybe not just here. He might not want to see me altogether. But he left me with no other choice.

I know I shouldn’t be here. This is the last place I should be, sitting with a crowd of eager watchers with eyes on the one guy my heart won’t stop pounding for.

When Lemuel left me texts about Felix joining a match four nights away, I was stunned. If there’s one thing Felix made sure I knew from the time we spent together, it’s that he’d never take on a match. I knew something was wrong the second I got those texts. And I wondered what he must be thinking to take on the one thing he was so sure he wouldn’t.

I didn’t care whether we were supposed to be staying away from each other; I called. And left messages. And he didn’t respond to either. He didn’t tak