The Lie : a bad boy sports romance
Page 21
“I talked to you, about you,” she whispered. “About wanting to sleep with you.”
My eyes burned. “Faith.” My voice cracked on her name.
“How did that feel?” she asked. “Hearing me tell you how badly I wanted to screw you.”
The air around us went cold, and if she’d taken a knife to my gut, it probably would’ve hurt less. And I deserved all of it.
“Don’t make it ugly,” I begged. “It wasn’t easy for me.”
Her eyebrows rose on her forehead. “I bet it wasn’t. To lie to me. To … what? See how far you could take it?” She exhaled a shaky laugh. “God, everything you knew about me. Asking me about my dating rule. No wonder you knew exactly what to say. I practically handed you a script of how to get me into bed.”
“It wasn’t like that,” I hissed.
“Wasn’t it?” she asked quietly. If she’d yelled, it would’ve tripped the wire on my temper, and because it was her, she knew that. From the beginning, she’d known exactly what I needed, exactly how to dig out the most vulnerable parts of me. Then her eyes filled, and for the first time in my life, I knew true and real self-loathing.
I paced the small hallway. “I’m sorry, Faith. It was … it was stupid.” I came to a halt in front of her, clasping her hands in mine. “I was wrong, and I’m sorry.”
A tear slid down her cheek, and she pulled her hands from mine so she could wipe it away. “I trusted you.”
“You still can,” I told her fervently. “You still can.”
Faith stepped back. “Dominic, you used my past as a way to benefit that part of you that still doesn’t … I don’t know … doesn’t believe that I’d actually want you. You used this awful thing I went through as a way to manipulate me.”
Her voice grew in strength, and as it did, I felt her slipping through my fingers. It didn’t matter if she was right in front of me. Didn’t matter what I said at this moment, if I tried to kiss her anger away, if I touched her in just the right way.
“I wasn’t trying to manipulate you.” I jammed a hand through my hair and tugged, a useless outlet for my frustration. What I really wanted to do was break something, just to see it shatter into a million un-fixable pieces. Something that would be more work than fixing whatever drove me to do such stupid, stupid shit. “I knew I needed to tell you, Faith. Every fucking time we were together, I thought about it.”
“Then why didn’t you?” she cried. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I don’t always do the right thing!” I yelled. “I’m fucking human, and I mess up. It’s not always so simple as knowing the right thing and just doing it.”
Her cheeks were high with color. “I don’t always do the right thing, Dominic, but I would never lie to someone I was fall—” Her voice broke off.
My attention sharpened on her face. “Someone you were what?”
Her mouth flattened into a line.
“Someone you were falling in love with?” I finished, voice growing louder. “Why do you think I didn’t say anything? It was almost too good to be true. You were exactly the kind of thing I never thought I’d have. Even before I knew who you were, I wanted you. And not for a million dollars did I think you’d ever want me back in the same way.”
“So you had to what, prove a point? That I could fall in love with you even if you weren’t the man I’ve respected for so long? That is bullshit, Dominic.” Maybe Faith was feeling that hot rush of anger like I always did when I gave in to the snapping, snarling impulse to make someone feel just as shitty as I was inside. And I couldn’t blame her. Not for a single second. “I have never made you feel like you were below me.”
“I was below you,” I yelled. “Look at what I did.”
She glanced down the hallway. “Calm down, please,” she begged. “Please don’t make a scene. Not here.”
A door opened just around the corner, and when I caught a glimpse of Allie leaving the ballroom, I swiped a hand over my forehead, then looked down at my hands. “Look at what I did,” I said more quietly.
Faith sniffled, tears streaming down her face unchecked.
“Faith?” Allie called. Her eyes darted uncomfortably between us. “What happened?”
“Go,” she whispered to me. Her stepmom hurried to her side, but I couldn’t tear my gaze from Faith. My insides were ice cold, and I wanted to take a crowbar to my ribs, pry it out, and get rid of this feeling coating my veins.
If we’d been alone, I might have fallen to my knees in front of her. Tried to make this right.
I wanted to let Faith warm me, take all that goodness in her and absorb it. But until I could fix what I’d done, until I could repair all the broken shards laying around us, I’d lost the right to do that.
“I’m sorry,” I said again, staggering back.
How had I let it get this far? Why did I think it wouldn’t leave her feeling betrayed and manipulated?
With a final look, memorizing that absolute fucking heartbreak on her beautiful face, I turned and did as she asked.
I walked away.
Faith
My knees gave out, and I sank back against the wall. Allie was in front of me in the next heartbeat. “Oh honey, come here.”
I held my hand out. “No. If you hug me right now, I will lose it,” I whispered.
My dad joined, concern stamped all over his face. “What happened?”
We both ignored him. I couldn’t say it. And Allie, I think she knew if she said anything of what she’d just seen, my dad would go after Dominic without a second thought.
Allie looked me straight in the eye with her hands on either side of my face. “Tell me what you need, Faith. Do you need to get out of here? We can do whatever you want.”
“What happened?” he repeated. “Are you okay?”
Somehow, I nodded. “I just … I think I just had my heart broken again,” I choked out.
Allie’s eyes filled.
“I could go slash his tires,” my dad muttered. “Or rip his balls off.”
A watery laugh escaped my mouth on a sob. “No, I don’t want that.”
I tilted my head up and took a few deep breaths.
“Turbo,” my dad said quietly.
“I’m so sorry this happened, Faith.” Allie shook her head. “I really thought underneath all of that, he would turn out to be something special.”
“He is,” I said quietly. When my dad opened his mouth to argue, I held up my hand. “He is. But I think, I think he doesn’t know how to let people see it. Not that it makes it okay,” I added.
From the hallway, Connie joined us with a gentle clearing of her throat. “Dinner is starting if you want to join us. Allie, they’re ready for you in five.”
“Go,” I told her. I dabbed my face with a handkerchief that my dad produced from … somewhere. It came away with a smudge of makeup, but that was it. I blew out a slow breath.
She shook her head. “No, not if you need me. They can wait.”
It was said so simply, with such certainty, that I almost collapsed into her arms and let the tears flow again.
I held her face like she’d held mine. “Go, Mom. I’ll be right in after you. This is important.”
“So are you,” she said. Her eyes, so bright in her beautiful face, sparkled with unshed tears. “I love you.”
“Love you too.” Gently, I pressed my forehead to hers. “And when it’s my turn up there tonight, I’m going to kick ass because I learned how from you.”
Disobeying my no-hug rule, Allie gave me a tight squeeze and then pecked my dad’s lips.
She gave me one last look. “Are you sure you can do your speech?”
I nodded.
Connie handed me a small bag. “There are eye drops and some blush in there, sweetheart.”
“Thank you, Connie.” My dad smoothed a hand along my back, and I gave him a tremulous smile. “I ruined your handkerchief.”
“I don’t give a shit,” he said, studying me with concern.
Could I set aside that huge part of me that wanted to run after him? My entire body hurt from what had just happened. All the skin covering my bones ached from sheer heart-hurt.
Allie was still standing with us. “Faith, I’m serious. I can step in if you need to go.”
I shook my head. “No. I can do this. But can I maybe sleep at home tonight?”
My dad smiled. “Of course.”
Allie blew me a kiss. “You can do this.”
“I can.” Because that was part of life. Things hurt. They were difficult, and we didn’t use them as an excuse to knock over the things that mattered. To hurt people the way we were hurting. Maybe it wasn’t that simple for everyone, but I knew it was true for me. “I’ll see you in there.”
She left with Connie, and my dad cleared his throat, blinking a little more rapidly than was normal.
“You okay?” I asked gently.
His eyes were a little red. “Never better, Turbo.” He held out his elbow. “You ready?”
My eyes watered again, but I did the same rapid blinking that seemed to work for my big, burly, tattooed dad, who was only brought to his knees by the women he adored.
“I think so,” I whispered. “But my heart hurts a little.”
I curled my hand around his elbow, and he patted it with his hand. “We’ll walk with you until it doesn’t hurt so much.”
Which was what he did.
Somehow, I made it through the event with a smile on my face, even if everything else was curling up in agony inside. By the time I got back to my apartment to pack up some clothes, slipped off my heels, and sank onto the couch with an exhausted sigh, I finally pulled my phone out of my clutch.
My heart stopped when I saw a call and message from Dominic about an hour earlier.
With shaking hands, in the quiet of my place, I hit the button to play the message. I should’ve braced for impact at the sound of his voice, but I didn’t, and it was stupid.
“Sunshine, I…” He stopped, voice uneven and slow and rough. “I’m such a fucking asshole.”
The tears started immediately, and I did nothing to stop the trails they left down my face.
“I don’t know why I let it go that long. I knew it was wrong. I just…” He paused, letting out an unsteady breath. “I was scared that because I didn’t tell you immediately, I had to tiptoe around it until things were exactly right. It was so fucking stupid. I fell in love with you so fast, sunshine.”
A sob escaped my mouth before I could stop it, and I pinched my eyes shut because I was so glad he wasn’t in front of me.
If he’d been in front of me saying those things, admitting how scared he was, I might have forgiven him, might have overlooked how screwed up his reaction was. Still, my body fairly shook from the desire to wrap my arms around him, and I had to pause the voicemail and let the feeling pass before I could continue.
I hit play and let the message continue.
“You are the first girl I have ever wanted to be with, Faith Pierson. The first girl I have ever fallen in love with. And I don’t know how to do that,” he admitted quietly. “I should be saying this to your face, and I know this is all wrong, but I want you to hear it in a way that you can… I don’t know, process it or whatever. That’s probably selfish too.” Dominic breathed out a harsh laugh. “But you know me, you know me so well, and I hope you can forgive me. I wish I could say that I’d never hurt you, but I already have. And I don’t…” His voice broke off. “I don’t know how to forgive myself for that.”
Silence stretched out in the message, and I held my breath.
“That’s it, I guess. If you want to call me, talk to me, anything, just let me know. And if you don’t, I-I get it. Good night, sunshine.”
Faith
“Can I watch it again?”
I threw a pillow at Lydia. “Please don’t. I’ve heard the sound of my voice quite enough.”
“You were so good, though, Faith.” My sister, propped on her stomach with her pillow scrunched underneath her chin, swiped her finger across the screen of her tablet again. “Look how many views already. You’re going to go viral!”
“Just what I always wanted.”
She laughed at my muttered answer. My old bedroom was empty because instead of using the room down the hall with the soft white walls and big windows overlooking Lake Washington, I snuggled under Lydia’s blanket instead, which was where we’d slept.
My little sister was the perfect person to host a post-breakup sleepover.
Which was why Tori was here too. She popped her head up from the mattress we’d dragged into the room and set up on the floor. In a house with six bedrooms, we’d turned my sister’s old room into a chaotic mess.
“I’d watch it again,” my best friend chimed in. “At least the end. Gawd, you were so freaking amazing, Faith. I hope he sees it.”
My chest hurt when she said it because the timing of my speech sure did look like I was making a jab at him.
“It wasn’t about him, Tor,” I told her. “I’ve had that speech written for over a week.”
Lydia gave me a look.
“It was! I can show you the note on my phone when I last edited it.”
“I’m sharing it to my page,” my sister said, speaking out loud as she typed.
“You are not,” I chided.
Lydia hit a button with relish. And Tori snatched her phone off the floor, cackling when she saw it. “Oh, she did. You think he’ll see it?”
“It’s not about him,” Lydia mimicked me in a sweet voice.
I threw a pillow at her blond head.
My voice filled the room as Tori listened to the clip, again. I shoved my face in the blanket with a groan.
“Stories like our amazing keynote tonight are just one of thousands that we hear at Team Sutton every single year. With each application, each funding request, stacked high on the desks of our incredibly talented staff, it would be so easy to numb ourselves to the truth of what those papers mean. It would be easy to ignore the reality that schools and community centers all across the country simply lack the funds to be able to give these kids what they need to nurture their passions. We shouldn’t numb ourselves to that, not ever. Looking it in the face every single day is the ability to respect their incredible resilience.” I paused, smiling at Allie and my dad at the table in the front. “One of the lessons my sister and I were taught growing up is that raw talent is only one piece of a much bigger puzzle. Without it, you can only get so far. But without grit, without the ability to persevere, you can’t get anywhere. It’s tenacity in the face of never-ending challenges. It’s adaptability in the constantly shifting tides of life. We might be able to write checks tonight, we might be able to look these amazing young people in the face and recognize what they’re able to achieve with the right support, but something we cannot hone, something we cannot purchase for them is the grit they have running through their veins. They don’t hide from their challenges,” I said softly. “And as the director of the Team Sutton Foundation, I will not hide from mine either.”
Tori flopped back on her mattress. “Ugh, it was so good, Faith. You were such a fucking rock star.”
I gave her a look. “Yeah, who went backstage and burst into tears as soon as the spotlight was off me. Poor Connie was not expecting my snot on her chiffon.”
Lydia rolled over and rubbed my back, something Allie used to do for us whenever we were sick. My eyes filled up for the hundredth time in the past twenty-four hours, and it pissed me off. I wanted to stop crying over him.
“You okay?” my little sister whispered.
Tori set her chin on her hands at the edge of the bed and watched us with a small, sad smile.
“I don’t know,” I answered quietly. “I’m still so hurt. He lied to me to my face, over and over. I don’t know how to be okay with that.”
They kn
ew he’d called, but I couldn’t bring myself to share what he’d told me. Even now, I felt the need to protect him, allow that window of vulnerability to remain private.
“You should be mad at him,” Tori added. Then she held up a hand. “I know, we’re probably not ready for the vilifying of the boyfriend yet.”
I sat up and ran my hands through my mess of hair, courtesy of the tossing and turning I’d done all night. “Maybe not just yet.”
Lydia sat up too, tucking her legs up against her chest. “What part are we at then? I’m not used to seeing you like this, so I feel a little … lost.”
Swiping at the tears on my cheek, I gave her a watery laugh. “I feel a little lost too. But I know that I can be mad at him and still just”—I pressed a fist to my chest—“hurt for how hell-bent he seems to be to undermine anything good that might hurt him. I wish I could make him stop.” I let out a deep breath. “But the only person who can make Dominic stop is him.”
“Why do you think he does that?” Lydia asked.
I shrugged. “Why does anyone self-sabotage? It’s scary to think about giving your heart to someone if you’ve never done it before.” My fingers plucked at the edge of the pillow I’d hugged to my chest all night. “Even for me, it was terrifying to feel all those things for him, especially so quickly. He was the first man I truly trusted.”
Tori settled her hand on mine. “But you didn’t take a baseball bat to it, even if you were scared.”
“No, I didn’t.” There was something hard about acknowledging it out loud. But it was the truth. Falling in love with Dominic was like a jump off the edge of a cliff, no net, no parachute, no notion of what was waiting for me once my feet were off the ground. Maybe it was just as scary for him to leap into the unknown with me.
“Are you going to reach out to him?” Lydia asked. “Tell him you got his voicemail.”
Tori got a look on her face—the protective friend look, and I held up a hand to stop whatever she was about to say.
“If Dominic wants to work through his issues, I will be his number one supporter. But I’m not going to be the proverbial punching bag while he figures out how to be in a healthy, functional relationship. This isn’t high school. It’s not cute or sexy to manipulate people because you’re scared. He’s a grown-ass man, and even if it breaks my heart to stay away from him”—my voice wavered, and I caught Lydia wiping under her eye—“I’m not going to put myself in the position to be treated like that by someone I care about.”