by Claire Adams
“James, the guy who I’ve known for years, has never blown off just about everything for some girl.” He threw my shitty reasoning right back at me.
“I told you, I’m just having some fun.” My brow was covered in sweat, and I was so far over this conversation that I was coming up on Timbuktu. “Since when do we gossip like teenagers about girls?”
“Since now, apparently. Who is she, James?” The man was tenacious; I had to give him that. Grudgingly.
A deep sigh ran through me. He wasn’t going to let me off the hook. It was time to get it over with. “It’s Gabrielle, okay. Gabrielle Ralls.”
Ryder went rigid. His jaw hit the ground as he turned to me. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No,” I admitted. “We met. Shit happened. We’re having fun.”
“Does she know that?” It would be an understatement to say that he looked doubtful.
“Yeah, of course.” We hadn’t talked about it, necessarily. Not in so many words, but I was sure that we were on the same page.
In fact, I was convinced that she’d only had dinner with me that first night to piss off her father.
The thought made me, I don’t know, uneasy maybe? But I was sure that her hanging out with me wasn’t about that anymore. Now it was something else.
“So you’re telling me that you’re potentially sacrificing your spot on our team for a fling?”
“What are you talking about?” It was my turn to stop and stare, though I knew exactly what he meant.
“You know what I’m fucking talking about. Don’t play dumb, Jamie. Not with me, cause I ain’t falling for your bullshit.” He was full-blown annoyed if his twitching jaw and harsh tone were anything to go by.
“Come on. Richard might not be happy about it, if he even finds out, but he’s not going to kick me off the team.” I’d dialed down my own irritation.
“No, maybe not. The restructuring of your contract, on the other hand, that might be in trouble.” His jaw clenched, and his dark eyes radiated a seriousness that he didn’t display too often. “I’m not going to say anything, but shit like this tends to get out. You said yourself that you’re not serious about this Gabrielle. So is it really worth it to risk your future over a fling?”
“If I agree to think about it, can we drop it?” I huffed. I was done with his shit.
He cast a last worried look my way, then broke out a grin. “Sure, man. Let me spot you.”
We grunted through our workout, hit the showers, and were out the door without another word about Gabrielle.
Thoughts swirled around in my head as I drove around, not wanting to head home just yet. Harper’s eyes flashed in my mind, as did the kind of life that I wanted for her.
Next was the Super Bowl and how shitty I had felt watching it on Ryder’s flat screen when it should’ve been us on that field. The ring that had eluded me for so long.
As much as I liked spending time with Gabrielle, maybe Ryder was right. Maybe she wasn’t worth risking my future.
Chapter Twenty
Gabrielle
“That’s it. I’m calling it a day.” I snapped my copy of the professional code of ethics shut and leaned back on Heather’s couch. I ran my hand over the cool leather of the armrest and let my head fall back, closing my tired eyes.
“Thank God. I’ve been rereading the same paragraph for the last 20 minutes.” Heather groaned from her perch at the ex-dining table.
“I think we made enough headway for today. There’s no use in carrying on when my brain feels like a sieve.” If my brain had been a bucket of water, it would have been leakier than a broken tap by that point.
“Try a rusty sieve with nothing left but frayed edges, in my case.” Heather pushed her textbook back and stretched her arms above her head. “I’m in serious need of more caffeine. You want some?”
“Is the Pope Catholic?” It was lame, but it was the best answer I could come up with. I had thrown myself into studying more and more that week, trying to ignore the fact that the man I was falling in love with was inexplicably pulling away from me.
I had known that he would, of course, but after last Saturday, I had allowed myself to believe what he’d said. Believed that he wasn’t going to get bored of me. That maybe he felt something, too.
He hadn’t only stayed the night, but had woken me in the early hours of the morning with an erection that meant business. Twice. He’d whispered about how he hadn’t gone bareback with a girl in years, and then proceeded to whisper all kinds of sweet nothings to me in the pre-dawn hours.
In the morning, we’d cooked breakfast together, bantering back and forth like an old married couple before he finally had to go.
We’d texted almost the whole of the previous Sunday, ending it with a phone call so hot that my sex still clenched when I thought about it. We had made plans for Monday night as he was headed to the gym that morning.
After that, things changed. He changed. First, he called to tell that he couldn’t make it to our dinner, citing that “something had come up.”
There were pictures of him in the entertainment section of the paper on Tuesday morning, apparently taken at some club the night before with the infamous Ryder. At least I finally had a face to put to the name.
I had expected him to call when he finally returned to the land of the living. He didn’t. He returned one of the texts on Tuesday night, saying that he’d been busy with the team.
No shit. I didn’t tell him that I’d seen the pictures. Or how deeply it had cut me.
He didn’t call or text on Wednesday, so I didn’t either. I’d received a text from him the night before with a picture of a parachute. No words.
Apparently, he’d gone skydiving without me. Not that I’d had any intention of joining him on that particular adventure; heights were the one thing that scared me. I just didn’t know what to make of it.
Heather clamored around the kitchen, singing along off-tune to some new Ed Sheeran song as she made our coffees.
“Need any help?” I offered. I had to get out of my head.
“I’m done. Since when do either of us need help making coffee?” She set my steaming mug on the table, wrapped her long fingers around hers, and settled on the couch beside me.
“Ugh, since never. I just offered so that I would have something to focus on.”
She stayed quiet as her eyes swept my face, a worried look setting in. “What aren’t you telling me? You’ve been so quiet all week.”
“I thought you’d appreciate the quiet.” She still didn’t know who I’d been seeing, and I didn’t want to talk about James anyway.
“I don’t. I mean, I would. If it were a ‘we’re studying’ quiet, but this isn’t that. Talk to me, friend. How are things with the relationship?” She was ridiculously intuitive. Although, maybe it was obvious. I didn’t know anymore.
“It was never a relationship really.” Even though I’d found myself wishing that it was on more than one occasion.
“Okay, but you know who I’m talking about. How’re things going there?”
I knew exactly who she was talking about, but James was kind of a sore subject.
Then I remembered wishing that I’d talked to Heather more about not taking the bar exam, and everything just came tumbling out. “If I’m being honest, I don’t know. I don’t think that it’s going well, though.”
“Why not? You seem really into him.” She wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t ready to say it out loud.
“He’s just gotten really distant this week, you know? Last weekend everything was great. Perfect, really. Then he canceled our plans Monday night, and I’ve hardly heard from him since.”
“Maybe you should go see him? Find out what’s going on?” She blew on her coffee and took a large sip.
“I don’t want to do that. I think that maybe he’s gotten what he wanted from our so-called relationship. I’m not the needy girl who’s going to go pushing his boundaries.” My heart broke a little as I said the word
s, but I meant every last one.
“If that is true and he has gotten what he wanted, the least he could do is to tell you that himself, instead of leaving you hanging like a coward would.” I bristled at Heather calling James a coward. He might be many things, but he wasn’t that. Heather, of course, didn’t know that.
“He’s not a coward, Heather. He’s the furthest thing from it.” God knew why I felt the need to defend him.
Especially given that he had left me hanging, essentially taking the coward’s way out, if that was what he was doing. The evidence sure pointed that way.
“Well, then he should man up and tell you to your face so that you can be done with him. Move on to bigger and better things.”
Bigger and better things might have been out there, but bigger and better men? I wasn’t convinced.
“Yeah, I guess I’m going to have to talk to him about it at some point. I just don’t understand what happened. One second, he’s getting all excited about going at it bareback and whispering all kinds of shit, and the next—”
“Tell me that you didn’t! That’s too dangerous, Gabbi. You never know who you’re sleeping with until you know who they’ve been sleeping with. You’re smarter than that.” I was, but I also knew how often the team got tested and how careful he’d been with condoms at first.
He did have a daughter, though. He’d claimed that he had worn a condom that night with Harper’s mother, that he’d seen it in the trash the morning after, but that the mom had claimed it had broken.
Even so. “I have an IUD, Heather. You know that.”
My gynecologist had insisted on it when I’d had some intense cramping as a senior that made it almost impossible to study.
“Pregnancy is not a disease, Gabbi. STDs, those are diseases. Some of them serious, incurable ones.” She shook her head and looked at me like I was crazy.
“He’s clean,” I insisted.
“Did he show you a recent test? How do you know?”
I couldn’t give her the real answer. The one that involved my father’s strict policies for his active players.
“I just know. Trust me. He’s clean.” I expected her to give me the talk, but she didn’t.
“Okay, as long as you’re as sure as you seem. Then what happened?”
We talked until the sun was setting through her bay window, bathing the room in soft light.
“I should go; it’s been a long day.” I stretched my stiff limbs and carried my mug to the cluttered sink.
Heather might have cleaned up, but she was still a long way from her usual, orderly self as the exam grew closer.
“That it has. Drive safe, babe. We’ll talk tomorrow. Try and talk to your mystery man, okay? I hate seeing you like this. Maybe there’s a reasonable explanation.”
There was.
He’d realized that I was just not worth his time. I’m not insecure. I never have been. I was attractive, but James was top-tier supermodel hot. Not only that, he was witty, intelligent, and easy to be around.
Even if he was looking to settle down, which he definitely wasn’t, it wasn’t going to be with a girl like me.
Heather’s words echoed around in my head as I drove home. She was right, to a certain extent anyway. If he was done with me, the least he could do was tell me. My heart stammered at the thought, but finding out sooner was better than later.
I had gone into this thing with my eyes wide open and my heart completely shut. Somehow, he’d taken a crowbar to the layer of protection I had surrounded myself with, and I’d forgotten that he was a fun distraction that my dad would hate.
I had known that James was trouble. It was the very reason I’d said yes to dinner in the first place, but it seemed that I was the one in trouble now that trouble didn’t want to get into me anymore.
On a whim, I decided to call him. I deserved to hear him say that he was over whatever was going on between us. I deserved the truth, even if I was expecting that my call would go to voicemail.
“Gabbi?” he answered on practically the first ring. “Are you okay?”
Concern colored his voice, even over the din of voices in the background. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m on the way home from Heather’s.”
“Oh, okay.” He sounded puzzled. Like he couldn’t figure out why I was calling then.
“I, uh, I was thinking that we should probably talk.” A shout of female laughter came from his end, until a rumbling male voice interfered, and the female voice disappeared with it.
I was not the kind of girl who got jealous. The way I figured it, if the guy was invested in you enough, there was nothing to be jealous about. If he wasn’t, well, good riddance. Let the next skank deal with him.
Yet, the thought of James with another girl sent jealousy coursing through my veins. The thought of another girl putting her hands on him, feeling the power flexing beneath the surface, I couldn’t stand it.
“Yeah, I guess that we should.” There was no emotion in his voice. In fact, it was the same low, arrogant lilt that he’d used the first few times we’d talked.
“Tell me where you are. I’ll meet you there.” I looked like shit, but I could clean up quickly once I got home. I’d made up my mind, and I needed him to rip the Band-Aid off.
As much as it would sting and hurt, I wasn’t going to endure another week of whatever he was doing.
“I’m busy tonight. I can’t leave now, and it’s probably not a great idea for you to come here. Most of the team are at this party. How’s tomorrow for you?” His voice was quiet, distracted.
“Okay, fine. Tomorrow then.” I wasn’t about to go strolling into some party where my dad probably had a million eyes and ears. It would be suicide. Even without anyone finding out about James and me, my presence at a party like that would raise eyebrows.
I wasn’t sure that I cared about my dad finding out anymore, but James and Harper? I wasn’t about to risk it when their futures were at play. I could wait one more day for an answer.
He hesitated. “I’ll come to your place around 9?”
“Fine, but let me ask you something, James. Is there anything going on between us? Because if there isn’t, I need to know.” It was as out there as I’d put myself in years, maybe even ever.
“Let’s talk tomorrow, okay?”
Chapter Twenty-One
James
Ryder’s guest bedroom was empty except for me when I woke up that morning. I’d physically locked the door after I’d removed the third prospect from the bed.
I’d gone to the room to call it an early night after Gabrielle’s call, but the door kept being shoved open as girl after girl tried to claim her trophy. It was fucking exhausting.
It was way too early to be up, as the trail of unconscious bodies lining the way to the door suggested. I made it out without being called back that time and breathed a sigh of relief as I clicked the unlock button on my keys.
I dragged a hand over the scruff on my face. I’d let it grow that week. It was itchy. I hated it. It was coming off as soon as I got home. After I’d spent some time with Harper.
Then I’d get down to making an excuse to get out of seeing Gabrielle. I had been a good boy all week. I kept my promise to myself and backed off. I had only slipped up once by sending her a picture of my chute. She hadn’t responded. No surprise there.
My dick hated me for backing off. Shit, I hated me for it, but once my mind was made up, it tended to stay that way.
I should’ve ignored Gabrielle’s call the night before, but I’d been bored as shit at Ryder’s party. None of the fake tits and faker laughs held any appeal.
Also, as soon as her name came up on my display, the weirdest fucking feeling came over me. Like she needed me. I couldn’t ignore that.
Hearing her voice had hit me harder than it should have. Way fucking harder. Then when she asked me if there was anything going on between us, I couldn’t bring myself to say no.
At the time, I’d told myself that she deserved to hear it in
person and that was why I choked on the word.
The bright morning sun had burnt away the haze of alcohol and the sense of security brought on by the dark of night and shone a light on that part of me that knew that I’d lied to myself.
I didn’t know why I hadn’t been able to say the word and let her go without ever seeing her again, but it wasn’t only because she deserved to hear it in person.
My phone spun in the air and landed soundlessly back in my palms. I laid on my back on my bed, playing my own version of catch with my phone. I had to be at Gabrielle’s in an hour. I wanted to call her to cancel, but that didn’t seem fair to her.
Half an hour later, I grabbed my keys and hopped into the Rover. I was going to pick up dinner, go to her house, and tell her the truth.
“I wasn’t sure that you were going to show up,” Gabrielle said, swinging open her front door and ushering me inside.
My heart pounded at the sight of her. Fuck me; she was gorgeous.
Her soft curls were pulled into a messy ponytail. She wore no makeup, except for mascara that darkened her long lashes and accentuated her deep blue eyes. Those curves that drove me crazy were wrapped in a floral print sundress that made my fingers itch to rip it off.
My fists clenched at my sides to keep from doing just that.
You’re not a fucking caveman, Skye. Show some self-control, for fuck’s sake.
I cleared my throat. She was still waiting for my answer. “Neither was I.”
She nodded to the takeout bag I was carrying. Confusion flashed in her eyes, her brows knitted. “You brought dinner?”
“Yeah, is that a problem?”
“No, not a problem. Just a surprise.”
“Why?”
“I thought that what you’d come here to say would be over in a minute or so, not last long enough for an entire dinner. Unless the dinner is only for me and is comfort food?”
“It’s for both of us.”
“Oh.”
“Oh? Is that all I get now?” We still stood in her entrance hall. She was rooted in place, as if she’d been planted there.
