“Stop, Cor. We can’t do this anymore.”
“Why not?” I asked, grabbing his chin and tilting his face back to me.
“It’s wrong,” he said with indifference.
With my thumb, I stroked his cheek. “If it’s wrong, then why aren’t you pulling away from me? Why does it feel like the rightest thing in the world?”
Hunter’s eyes watered. “Because we belong together.”
My heart leapt from my chest, and I pressed my head to his. “Yeah, we do.”
“But what will people say—”
“It doesn’t matter what they think,” I said, cutting him off. “But if you want to keep it secret for a while, we can. You just gotta tell me, Hunt.”
“I love you,” he said, leaning into me. “I’m just not ready for other people to know that yet.”
The memory hurt. It was also a bit ironic that I’d been so ready to come out back then, but there I was now, still hiding my true self and letting people believe I was banging a supermodel just so they wouldn’t become suspicious. Losing Hunter had changed me. Perhaps it was because going through it alone was too nerve-wracking.
At least when we were a couple, it was something we would’ve faced together.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I called him. It rang a few times before going to voicemail. I called him again and had the same result.
“Hey, Hunter,” I said after the beep. “We need to talk. Call me when you can.”
It was Wednesday and he was in school. So maybe he wasn’t intentionally ignoring me.
We needed to find time to talk, though, and soon. I doubted we’d ever get back together, but we could at least be friends again.
Sick of the cold, I went back inside and decided to kill some time by watching TV. That got old quick. No amount of crime dramas could hold my attention with the mood I was in. What the fuck was I supposed to do? Sit around and twiddle my thumbs as I waited for shit to happen?
There were things I should be doing.
I needed to sort through Grandpa’s things and figure out what I wanted to keep and what could be given away or donated, but I wasn’t ready to face that yet.
My agent emailed me about doing an ad for shoes. I needed to respond to her.
William had called me like a million times since I’d been there, and I kept rejecting his calls. I’d have to deal with him sometime. The way we ended things had been abrupt and we needed to talk about it now that we’d had time to calm down. I had no desire to get back with him, but I hated ending things on bad terms.
Hunter was to blame for that. The way he’d dumped me had fucked me up, and ever since then, I had issues with unresolved conflicts.
“Fuck it. I’m not dealing with any of it right now,” I told myself as I lay on the couch.
Staring up at the ceiling, I thought about my life. I had one more season with the Raptors, and then what? Would they replace me with someone younger and who wasn’t hindered by past injuries?
Would I care if they did?
No career in pro-level football ever lasted long. There’d only been a few exceptions over the years. For the most part, a career only lasted four to six years before you were replaced.
Football had been my life ever since middle school, though, and I didn’t know how to do anything else. Hell, I didn’t even have a damn hobby to fall back on.
My throat tightened as it hit me that I’d normally call Gramps when I was struggling like that. He’d always given me the best advice and helped me keep a level head.
“Take a deep breath and then tell me what’s goin’ on, son,” he’d say. “We’ll figure it out together.”
Hot tears streamed down my cheeks and my body shuddered with suppressed sobs.
Not even a month ago, I’d had it all: family who loved and supported me, a successful career, and I’d had a direction of where my life was heading. There’d been no doubts about anything.
Now?
I just felt alone.
Chapter 9
Hunter
“Have you heard Corbin Taylor is in town?” a girl asked her friend as they entered my class that afternoon. Her name was Jessie, and she was on the girls’ basketball team. She was a nice girl. “He is so freaking hot. I’d love to sit on his face.”
Nice but certainly not innocent. I cringed and forced myself to stop listening, but they weren’t exactly talking quietly.
“His grandpa died,” the other girl, Lindsey, answered, sitting down in her assigned seat. “It’s so sad, right? Poor guy is probably all heartbroken.”
“Nothing that a good night with me won’t fix,” Jessie said with a flirty smile. “You think he’s still seeing Veronica Cortez?”
My heart ached at the mention of him dating someone else—and a woman no less. Not that Corbin couldn’t be bisexual, but I highly doubted it. Even before we’d started dating, he’d never shown any interest in girls. If he was dating a woman, there was a huge chance he was doing it just to put on a show.
And maybe it was also the thought of him with someone else—male or female—that upset me. Okay, no maybe about it. I loathed the thought.
It was always supposed to be just us.
“You’re my first and my last,” Corbin said before pressing his lips to my forehead. “We’re gonna spend the rest of our lives together.”
“How do you know?” I asked, peering up at him. We were only eighteen and had our whole lives ahead of us. “Anything could change.”
“That won’t.” A determined look sparked in his eyes. “I’ll always love you.”
“Promise?”
He caressed my cheek before moving his fingers to my mouth, outlining my lips. “I swear. No one will ever have my heart except for you.”
His words seared into my heart, and I knew no one else would ever touch mine either.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were sort of a romantic.”
I grinned when he playfully cut his eyes at me.
“Yeah, don’t tell anyone,” Corbin said before kissing the side of my neck. “I have a reputation to uphold.”
I rolled my eyes and wrapped my arms around him.
“Hunter?” His tone was different. More serious. His eyes met mine, and the silliness from earlier was gone. “You believe me, right? That I love you?”
“Yes.” I didn’t even have to think about it.
There might’ve been a lot in life I didn’t know for certain, but I knew his love was real.
The memory faded with the ringing of the bell.
“Okay, quiet down, guys,” I said once everyone was seated. My afternoon classes were usually chattier than my earlier ones, because it was after lunch and the kids were more energized. “Did everyone write down their topic for the research paper? We’re going to the computer lab today so y’all can work on it.”
Some of them looked confused, and I suppressed a smile. They were one of my senior classes, and most of them were getting senioritis, which was a condition that caused a distracted mind, little motivation to work, and a lot of skipped school days.
However, I wasn’t going to let that keep me from doing my best to prepare them for college. The research paper was supposed to help them with their research skills—of course—but also to help them create a good hypothesis, followed by an introduction, body, and conclusion supporting that idea.
“I’ll go down the list and call out your topics. Again,” I said, walking to my desk. “Mark, you have the Enlightenment period and its importance. Heather, yours is on Arthur Conan Doyle.”
I continued reading the topics, and once the students knew their assignment, we left the classroom. They followed me down the hall toward the computer lab, and I had to tell them to keep it down along the way because they talked too loud to their friends.
Once we’d entered the room, they each took a seat at a computer, but five minutes into doing research most of them had started goofing off.
“Remember,” I said,
getting their attention. “I’m letting you guys work on this during class for the next two weeks. What you don’t get done here, you have to do at home. On your time.” I crossed my arms and looked at Jessie, who was googling pictures of a very sexy Corbin during his Under Armour photoshoot. “So, I’d be smart about how you use this class period.”
Jessie blushed once she caught me looking at her and quickly closed the tab.
I wasn’t too strict, but I wasn’t a pushover either. I understood them because I’d been just like them not too long ago.
Freshmen year, Corbin and I had been every teacher’s worst nightmare. We’d talked so much during class that they’d had to separate us, and even then, we’d thrown rolled-up notes back and forth to each other. I had gotten detention so many times that year, but every second had been worth it.
By junior year, we’d calmed down a lot and started thinking of our academic futures more, but we’d still had our obnoxious moments all the way up to graduation.
Why am I thinking of him so much?
I sighed and sat at the vacant computer toward the end of the row. To keep my mind preoccupied, I went to a site called Free Rice. It had multiple subjects to choose from—math, English, science—and whichever one you picked, you’d get multiple choice questions to answer. Each correct answer donated food to help end hunger.
It wasn’t most people’s idea of fun, but I liked it.
I selected the English Vocabulary option and began answering the questions. They started off easy at first and got harder as you went on. I got up to one thousand rice donated before a student needed me to clarify a part of the assignment.
Class ended, and I waited until all the students were out of the computer lab before walking back to my classroom. Only one hour left and then the work day would be over.
All week, I’d wanted to call Corbin and apologize for acting like an asshole over the weekend, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I was too ashamed of my behavior, but also nervous: nervous about getting close to him again and not being able to stop myself from repeating the past.
Afraid of opening up to him and getting hurt.
He wasn’t going to stay in Willow forever. Once he took care of Bill’s estate, he was leaving. He had a big life to get back to, and it didn’t include me.
***
“Hey, Hunter,” Corbin said over the voicemail. “We need to talk. Call me when you can.”
I listened to it one more time, trying to get a read on him. I had a good idea of what he wanted to talk about, and once we went to that place there’d be no going back. It had to be done, though, for both his sake and mine.
After taking several deep breaths, I called him.
“Hello?” he answered before the third ring.
“Hey, what’s up?” God, that was such a teen thing to say, but it’s all I could come up with.
“Nothing much. You?”
So casual…and weird. I wasn’t used to things being awkward with Corbin.
“I got your voicemail,” I said, slowly pacing back and forth in my living room. Looking at the time on my phone, I saw it was a little before five that afternoon. “You’re right. We do need to talk. Do you want to grab dinner together?”
“Yeah,” he said, and he sounded surprised. And hopeful. “That’d be great. Where do you wanna go? Anywhere is fine with me.”
I was about to suggest a restaurant in town, but then I changed my mind. If we were going to talk—really talk—I wanted privacy just in case things got heated. It was hard to hash it all out in the middle of a crowded restaurant.
“Come over to my place,” I said, walking down the hall and into the kitchen. My house was on the smaller side and lacked the extravagance he was probably used to. However, I did okay for myself with living off a teacher’s salary.
“You’re going to cook for me?” he asked, and it was hard to miss the smile in his voice.
Damn him.
“Yeah, don’t get a big head about it. It’s just food.” I opened the pantry, flipped on the light, and scanned the shelves. I’d planned on making spaghetti that night anyway, so I’d just make a little extra. “I’ll text you my address.”
We got off the phone and I grabbed the box of dry pasta and sauce from the pantry before placing them on the counter. After grabbing a pot and filling it halfway with water, I put it on the stove and switched on the burner. While the water was heating, I grabbed the cast-iron skillet and put it on the other burner before getting the hamburger meat from the refrigerator.
I was going over each step of the very simple meal in my head just to have a distraction from the fact Corbin was coming over to my house.
Crap, I didn’t even know what I looked like. I’d changed into a pair of comfy lounge pants and an old T-shirt after I’d gotten home from work, so messy was probably the answer. I didn’t expect anything to happen with me and Corbin, so it didn’t matter if I looked like shit.
Right?
Who the hell am I trying to kid?
I totally understood then why people tried to impress their exes. Not in an attempt to get laid—although I wouldn’t mind that too much seeing as it’d been a while since I’d been properly fucked—but more so to make themselves feel better. Empowered. Like an ‘I’m doing great without you’ type thing.
That was so far from the truth, but he didn’t have to know that. My sex life was laughable at best.
I’d had a lot of sex in college, more as an attempt to forget about Corbin and the hole in my chest. There’d been more gay and bi men than I’d thought there’d be, and I took full advantage of that. At one point during those college years, I’d gotten really bad and was having sex with multiple guys a week.
But no one had ever made me feel the way he had.
Once I’d graduated, I started focusing more on finding a job and then keeping it once I had it. Sex then became a rare occurrence. It’d been about eight months since I’d been laid.
Not that I was counting the time or anything.
Corbin got there just as I was draining the grease from the hamburger meat. The noodles needed about three more minutes to cook, and I still had to put the garlic bread in the oven.
“Come in,” I yelled as I heard him knock on the door. “I’m in the kitchen.”
“How’d you know it was me?” he asked after walking in there. “I could’ve been a serial killer.”
“Serial killers don’t knock,” I pointed out. I set the skillet back on the stove before grabbing the tray of bread and sticking it in the oven. “They’d sneak in through a window or pick the lock. Didn’t Criminal Minds teach you anything?”
Corbin leaned on the counter and came into my line of sight. “Need any help?”
God, why did he have to look so good?
He was wearing a red beanie that read CLASSY AS FUCK—typical Corbin humor—and his sharp jawline was free of scruff. His blue-gray eyes were surrounded by long dark lashes, and the smile in the corner of his mouth was familiar. He reminded me so much of the Corbin I used to know.
“Yeah, sure,” I answered, returning his smile. “Can you strain the noodles?”
I told him where the strainer was and he took the pot of noodles over to the sink. Together, we finished making dinner and set the table. When the timer went off, I took the bread from the oven and placed a few pieces on each of our plates. After pouring us a glass of sweet tea, I joined him at the table.
“Thanks for cooking,” he said before looking down at his plate with a thoughtful expression. “It’s been a while since I had a home cooked meal.”
A tingling happened in my chest, and I inwardly cursed the feeling. Now’s not the time to get soft.
“Ah, it’s nothing fancy,” I downplayed it, hoping that’d help me keep my guard up.
We didn’t say anything for a while as we started eating. No silence had ever been weird between us, but that one was. Perhaps because we knew we’d eventually have to face the tension keeping us at odds.
/> Glancing at him, I noticed his scrunched brow and knew he was mulling something around in his head.
“How was work today?” he asked.
I was surprised he hadn’t cut right to the chase, but I was thankful he didn’t. Usually, I wasn’t a fan of small talk; however, I felt it was needed with us. Having been apart for so long, we’d lost our connection, and we needed to work up to more significant topics.
“Good,” I answered after swallowing a bite of spaghetti. I’d added just a tad too much salt to it, so I took a drink of tea to wash it down. “I’m having the kids write a research paper, so we’re using the computer lab for the next two weeks.”
“It’s still hard to imagine you as a teacher,” Corbin said with a grin. “Are you a hard ass?”
“Maybe just a little,” I said. His grin widened, and it was contagious. “Some students are more appreciative than others. But it’s for their own good.” He nodded and a silence followed. I bounced my knee under the table. It felt like I was grasping at straws as I tried to find something else to talk about. “What did you do today?”
“Pretty much everything except what I was supposed to,” he answered. “I need to go through Grandpa’s things, but I’m not prepared for it yet.”
“When you decide to do it, let me know and I’ll come over to help,” I offered, unable to stop myself before I reached across the table and covered his hand with mine. “You don’t have to do it alone.”
He upturned his palm and slid his fingers through mine. “Thanks, Hunter.”
My heart raced at the contact, and I pulled my hand away. “No problem.”
Corbin watched my retreating hand with a pulled together brow before picking up his fork and taking another bite.
Through the rest of dinner, we continued with the small talk, and I found it was getting easier to carry on conversation. I didn’t have to think as much or worry about asking the wrong thing. I talked about how much I loved teaching. He talked about football.
We carefully treaded the waters. Neither of us mentioned current relationships or anything to do with us as a couple—past or present.
Tangled Up In You Page 7
