“Good.” He smiles. “Now get the hell out of here and hit the showers.”
“Okay.” With nothing left to say, I jog toward the locker room.
I’m about to disappear through the tunnel, when he calls out my name. “Rowan?”
I grind to a halt before turning around. “Yeah?”
“You hurt my little girl.” There’s a beat of uncomfortable silence. “I didn’t expect that from you.”
I suck in a sharp breath, holding it deep in my lungs until it feels like they might burst from the pressure. “All I was trying to do is protect her. I didn’t want Demi getting dragged into this mess.”
He squints before cocking his head. “That might be so, but she needs you more than she needs your protection.”
I shift my weight as a flutter of nerves explodes in the pit of my belly. Maybe I should have been honest with her from the very beginning, instead of trying to hide my past. “She might not forgive me.”
“You’re right, but you won’t know until you try.”
With a jerk of my head, I hit the showers. It’s a painful admittance to realize that I might have fucked up the best thing in my life, because I was too scared to open up and tell her the truth.
Coach is right. It might be too late to work things out, but I won’t know until I try.
40
Demi
The apartment door whips open, and Sydney races inside with excitement dancing in her eyes like it’s Christmas morning and her birthday all wrapped up into one. I haven’t seen her this ecstatic since...
Well, never. I’ve never seen this level of elation from her. Sydney is usually lowkey. Unless she’s angry. Then watch out.
When I raise my brows, she crows, “I have the best flipping news ever!” I don’t get a chance to bombard her with questions before the words explode from her tongue. “Annica broke her ankle over the weekend! She’s out for the rest of the season!”
My mouth falls open. No matter what I thought she might say, that certainly wasn’t it.
Holy crap!
“Yeah,” she nods enthusiastically, “I know, right? I have to say, I didn’t really believe in karma before, but this has totally changed that line of thinking.” She drops onto the overstuffed chair across from me before throwing her arms wide. “I’m a big believer now!”
“Then you should be careful,” I warn. “I’m pretty sure karma doesn’t appreciate when you revel in the misfortune of others.”
Sydney makes a big show of rolling her eyes. “Listen, Annica deserves it and karma, that glorious bitch, realizes it as well.”
“How did it happen?”
“I guess she was really drunk Saturday night and tripped down someone’s front porch steps. When she couldn’t put pressure on her foot, her friends made the boneheaded decision to take her to the emergency room.” She turns gleeful. Kind of like the Grinch anticipating Whoville’s disappointment on Christmas morning. “Get this—not only did she break her ankle, she also got a drinking ticket too, and now has to face sanctions from both Coach and the university. Triple whammy.” With a pause, she counts out something on her fingers. “More like quadruple whammy.”
My eyes widen. “That’s terrible.”
“No, she’s terrible, and you,” she stabs a finger in my direction, “of all people should know it.”
With a shrug, I glance away. Yeah, Annica has turned out to be a real pain in my ass, but that doesn’t mean I wish her any ill will. Fine...maybe a teeny-tiny shred of it. But it sounds like she got the motherload in one fell swoop.
“You know,” Sydney says, breaking into the chaotic whirl of my thoughts, “she caused a lot of friction with the team. It’s like she thrived on it.”
That’s true. Annica did seem to enjoy the discord. Most people understand that a team can’t succeed unless they band together to achieve a collective goal. Does that necessarily mean every player’s personality will mesh? Of course not.
Guess that wasn’t a lesson that Annica learned early in life like the rest of us.
“With her out for the rest of the season, maybe we can get the team gelling again.”
If there’s anything good that comes out of the situation, it’s that we pull the younger girls back into the fold and get them to buy into the idea of working together to bring home a championship. At this point, it’s not too late to turn things around. I think that’s what we all want.
Now that Sydney has shared the good tidings, she huffs and rises to her feet. “All right, I’ve got to head over to the library for a couple of hours.”
I perk up. “Want some company? I’m not busy, I can come with you.” It would probably be a good idea to get out of the apartment for a little bit. It’s been more than a week since the breakup, and I’m still all sad bastard. Even I’m tired of being around myself.
“I wish you could.” A scowl twists her pretty face. “Unfortunately, I’m meeting up with Brayden to work on that stupid project.”
“Oh.” Their strange interaction pops into my head. I’ve been so focused on my own situation, that I almost forgot about her run in with Brayden. “He’s a nice guy, I’m surprised you have such a problem with him.”
She straightens to her full height and stares at me like I’ve grown a horn on my head. “How can you even say that?”
Ummm...
“I don’t know.” I’ve never had an issue with the handsome wide receiver. He’s always treated me like a little sister. Out of all the guys on the team, he’s probably the one I trust most. Clearly, Sydney feels differently—which is strange. As far as I know, nothing has ever happened between them to bring out such animosity in her. “Most girls would be thrilled to be partnered up with him.”
A haughty look enters her eyes as she sniffs. “Well, I’m not most girls.”
True that.
“I’ll be honest, after we ran into him at that party, I kind of wondered if there might be a little something-something going on between you two. You had that whole I-hate-you-but-I-secretly-want-to-sleep-with-you vibe going on.” Although now that I think about it, Brayden wasn’t acting that way. He was needling her, trying his best to solicit a reaction. Kind of like an elementary school boy would do to a girl he liked.
She makes a choking noise deep in her throat. “I have way too much self-respect to ever get tangled up with such a manwhore, and quite frankly, after the whole Ethan situation, I’m taking a timeout from the dating game. I need to get my head on straight.”
In a surprising plot twist, Sydney and Ethan haven’t mended their broken relationship. It’s been a little more than two weeks. This is the longest they’ve ever gone without getting back together again.
“That’s probably a smart decision.”
She chews her lower lip before reluctantly admitting, “I saw him the other day walking to class with another girl.”
Ouch. It doesn’t matter if she’s the one who pulled the plug on the relationship, seeing your ex with another person still stings.
“I’m sorry, Syd,” I say gently. “Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”
Sadness flashes in her eyes as she shakes her head. “No. The thing is, it hurt to see him but not nearly as much as I assumed it would. It didn’t make me want to call him up and get back together again.” She pauses, as if thinking about what she’s admitted before her gaze refocuses on me. “That’s got to mean something, right?”
“I think it means you made the right decision where Ethan is concerned.”
“Yeah.” A small sigh escapes from her. “I think you’re probably right. For a while, we were really good together. And then we weren’t. Now that I’m looking back, I think we hung on for too long. We should have broken up a while ago.” She jerks her shoulders as if unsure what the correct answer is. “But it was comfortable, you know? It was easy.”
Easy?
That’s not the term I would use to describe their relationship.
When I give her a get-the-hell-out-o
f-town look, her lips twitch, and a few chuckles escape. “All right, maybe not easy, but you know what I mean. No matter what, Ethan’s a good guy, and I always knew what to expect from him.”
“He’s definitely a good guy,” I agree.
“Just not for me,” she tacks on almost regretfully.
I nod, understanding the mix of emotions she’s experiencing.
“The plan is to focus on school and soccer for the time being. The last thing I need is a man fucking up the works.”
“Sounds smart. We can do it together.”
“The celibate sisters,” she adds with a grin. “I like it. We’ll get T-shirts.” Sydney slips her phone out of her pocket and glances at it before the lightheartedness she’d managed to find drains away. “All right, I’ve got to go meet up with WU’s very own manwhore.”
“See you later,” I call after her as she grabs her bag and heads to the door. “Try not to kill him.”
“I’m not making any promises!” she shouts before disappearing into the hallway. Less than a minute later, there’s a knock.
I jump from the couch and pad into the tiny entryway before opening the door. “Back already? What did you—”
My voice dies a quick death when I realize it’s not my roommate. Instead, I find Rowan standing on the other side of the threshold. The sight of him has me hugging the door frame a little closer to my body.
“Hi.” He shoves his hands into the pockets of his khakis. There’s a ball cap pulled low over his eyes, and even though there’s a definite chill to the air, he’s wearing a black T-shirt that hugs his biceps.
In other words, he looks amazing. The magnetic attraction that always hums beneath the surface when we’re together explodes to life with a vengeance. It’s so tempting to reach out and pull him to me. Instead of giving in to the urge, I squeeze the door a little harder.
“Hey.” My heart slams painfully against my ribcage. I’ve seen him in class and caught glimpses of him around campus, but we haven’t been this close in a while. When he remains silent, I clear my throat and attempt to turn off the tangle of emotions slyly wrapping their way around me. “What are you doing here?”
“I was hoping we could talk.”
An image of Annica hanging all over him flashes through my head. A pit of nausea blooms at the bottom of my belly, and I force myself to straighten my shoulders. “After more than a week of silence, I don’t think we have anything to discuss.”
Rowan draws his lower lip into his mouth before chewing on it. A mixture of sorrow and regret fills his expression, and it’s almost enough to break my heart.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I want to smack myself for even thinking along those lines. I’m not the one who hurt or betrayed him. It was the other way around.
“I need to explain something to you and then, if you don’t want to speak with me again, I’ll respect that.” When I remain silent, unsure what to do, his voice turns pleading. “Give me five minutes, and then I’ll leave. You’ll never hear from me again. I promise.”
If I were smart, I would slam the door in his face. There is nothing he can say or do to change the way I feel about him. He’s the first guy I took a chance on and opened myself up to. I was prepared to lay it all on the line for him. Thank God, I didn’t get a chance to do that. It would have only made me feel more pathetic than I already do.
Whoever said—it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all was seriously mistaken. The whole loving-and-losing thing sucks major ass. And quite honestly, I don’t see it getting better anytime soon.
“Please, Demi?”
A huff of frustration leaves my lips. I wish I were strong enough to tell him to go to hell. Since I’m not, I begrudgingly move away from the door and wave him in. There’s a tiny part of me that’s curious about what he has to say.
“Thanks,” he murmurs, slipping past me and into the living room where he drops onto the chair. Needing as much distance as possible, I gravitate to the far end of the couch. Regret flickers over his expression as he watches me. It’s like he realizes what tactics I’m trying to employ to keep him at a safe distance. His elbows settle on spread thighs as he clasps his hands together in front of him.
An oppressive silence blankets us, and I shift restlessly beneath the heavy weight of his stare. This is more painful than I expected. Only now do I realize that allowing him inside was a mistake. I’ve changed my mind. No longer do I care what he has to say. His rationale of the situation won’t make a difference.
Rowan clears his throat and his gaze falters, falling to his fingers. I don’t realize how tightly clasped they are until the knuckles turn bone white. “I want you to know that nothing happened with Annica. That night or any other.”
For the second time in a matter of minutes, an image of them flashes unwantedly through my head, and my heart jackhammers a painful staccato against my ribcage. I jerk my shoulders, not wanting him to see how deep his betrayal has cut. “That’s not the way it looked.”
It’s a relief when my voice comes out sounding devoid of emotion. If he thinks he can waltz in here with some half-assed explanation, and I’ll fall all over him, Rowan has another thing coming.
“I know.” There’s a moment of silence before he admits softly, “That was the plan. I wanted you to find us together.”
What?
For a beat, maybe two, my mind cartwheels, and all I can do is stare.
He wanted me to find them?
I shake my head as my brows slam together. It’s almost impossible to wrap my lips around the question. “You deliberately set out to hurt me?”
My throat grows scratchy as thick emotion wells in the middle of it.
“No.” There’s a pause before he hastily amends, “I mean, yes.” Frustration vibrates off him in suffocating waves as he yanks off his black Wildcats ball cap and drags a hand through his long blond hair. “I wanted to make sure you would be pissed off and never talk to me again.”
Un-fucking-believable.
“Well,” I force out a mirthless laugh, “you got what you wanted.” I rise unsteadily to my feet. “I’m not sure why you felt the need to come here and share this with me, but I think you should leave.”
Desperation flares in his eyes as he jumps to his feet. “Please, Demi. Hear me out!” In two long-legged strides, he eats up the distance between us. “I’m doing a shit job of explaining this.”
I hold up a hand, not wanting him any closer. “I assume that’s because there’s no way to justify why you would do something so fucked up.”
When I try to move past him, his fingers lock around my wrist. All it takes is one tug to drag me closer. The force of the movement sends me stumbling, and I lose my balance before crashing into him. My hands go to his chest in an attempt to shove my way free. Instead of releasing me, his arms lock around my body until I’m rendered powerless.
“Your five minutes are up. You need to leave.” If it were possible to move my leg, I would knee him in the balls. He deserves that and so much more for the pain he’s caused. Refusing to make this easy, I struggle against the hold he has on me. Rowan made his choice, and now I’m making mine.
“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he says with a grunt, attempting to subdue my movements.
“Ha!” Disbelief bubbles up in my throat. How did I not realize Rowan was delusional? “So, let me understand this correctly,” I snap, “your idea of doing the right thing was to hurt me by messing around with one of my teammates? The very same teammate, I’ll remind you, that has been gunning for me both on and off the field. Wow!” Bitterness drips from every word. “How very thoughtful of you.”
The air deflates from his lungs as he exhales. “Well, when you put it like that, it doesn’t sound good.”
“No,” I agree flatly, “it really doesn’t.”
“At the end of the day, all I wanted was to protect you.” Weariness flashes across his face. “Maybe I went about it the wro
ng way.”
His strange explanation knocks me off-balance, and I still. “Protect me? From what?”
“My past.”
“I don’t understand.” My brows draw together as I search his eyes for clues. “Why would I need protecting from your past?”
Rowan glances away as embarrassment floods his features and darkens his cheeks. “There’s a reason I don’t talk about my family.”
That’s something I’ve noticed. The times I’ve tried to dig deeper, he immediately shuts down and changes the subject. Instead of pushing the issue, I backed off, assuming Rowan would open up when he was comfortable. That never occurred. I know as much about his personal history now as I did before.
“It’s difficult to talk about,” he mutters. “I never wanted you to find out about my father.”
“Rowan,” I say softly, the sharpest parts of my anger dissolving, “you don’t have to tell me.” This is clearly a painful subject for him. Even though I want to understand how his family impacted our relationship or why he set out to hurt me, maybe it no longer matters. What we need is closure so that we can move on.
“It’s important you realize why I pushed you away.” He draws in a steady inhalation as if to steel himself for what will come next. “You’re the last person I would ever want to cause pain, and I’m sorry for that. I can’t say that it wasn’t my intention, because it was. I didn’t see another way.” He pauses for a beat. “Can we please sit down and have this conversation?”
That’s when I realize I’m still locked in his arms, held tightly against his chest.
When I nod, he swings toward the couch with me held securely in his arms. I get the feeling he’s afraid to let me go, even for a moment. The urge to burrow against his chest thrums through me, but I’m not quite ready to do that. I’ve missed Rowan more than I allowed myself to acknowledge, even privately. It was so much easier to push him to the outer recesses of my mind and pretend I hadn’t already given him my heart. With him standing before me, I can no longer do that.
“Do you remember the older guy we ran into on campus a couple of weeks ago?” When I stare, he adds, “It was after stats class.”
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