Amy sniffed, hearing sounds like quiet crying over the line. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”
“Of course you didn’t. You were too sick.” Delia sighed into the phone, and her voice softened. “I know it makes me a terrible person for being jealous of you. I’m sorry.”
Amy laughed through her tears. “I was so jealous of you! You are so pretty and popular and did cheerleading and won awards. You had everything. I could barely get out of bed most days.”
“We were jealous of each other, then. And didn’t even know it.”
“Looks like it.” Amy sighed. “How stupid. We should have talked about this a long time ago.”
“Maybe we should talk more now, Ames.”
Amy’s throat tightened. This was the longest conversation they’d had in years, and the most honest, even if it was painful. They had never really been the kind of sisters who had these conversations. She wanted to, though. Maybe it wasn’t too late to start.
Yes, Delia was selfish. But Amy loved her.
“I don’t want to fight over a guy, D.” When Amy spoke, her voice quaked with emotion.
“So, let’s not.” Delia paused. “Maybe we should both let him go.”
Amy bristled, the feeling of sisterly camaraderie vanishing in an instant. Of course, that would be Delia’s solution. If she couldn’t have Sy, no one could.
But Amy had to admit this was the perfect answer. It gave her an easy out with Sy. If she told him that she couldn’t date him because of Delia, he would get it. He may not like it, but it was an excuse that would completely leave her cancer out of it. He would never know the real reason.
“Okay,” Amy said.
“Okay?” Delia sounded surprised.
“I’ll let him go. Just friends. Nothing more.”
Friends. With Sy.
At one time, that would have been enough. Any connection to him. Any relationship. But now, it wasn’t all she wanted. Not after their date. Not after that kiss.
Amy had been able to see a future stretching out before her with this man. His kindness, his humor, his warm honey eyes … and the way she felt so safe next to him. The thought of it made her ache, so she pushed it away.
Biting her lip, Amy tried to hold back the swell of emotion. Amy couldn’t have Sy. Cancer stole that chance the moment she got her diagnosis. It had taken her teenage years. Now it was going to take her twenties. Probably her hair, her health, and her breasts. It would also take her chance at love with Sy.
Is this the right call? What if I told Delia how I really feel about Sy? What if I tell him everything and let him decide if he wants to stay or go?
She couldn’t do it. Amy knew Sy would stay with her through it all if she told him. But she would always wonder if he stayed because he loved her or because he had a sense of honor.
Telling him would take away his choice. He would feel bound to her. Obligated.
Amy needed to push him away before it came to that. She wouldn’t let him be trapped. The promise to Delia gave her an easy out.
“I love you, Ames. You’re a good sister. And friend.”
“Thanks.”
She wasn’t, though. Not really. No one saw the selfishness and the darkness in her own heart. She understood her sister better after this conversation, but she was still angry with Delia for forcing this promise. It made a good excuse, but that didn’t mean Delia wasn’t being selfish.
“So, are we good, then? Truce?” Amy asked.
Delia laughed. “Truce.” There was a pause that made Amy nervous. She knew her sister too well and could almost hear the wheels turning in Delia’s head. “Starting now. Truce starting now.”
Well, that was ominous. “Delia, did you do something?”
Before Delia could answer, there was a rapping on the window. The policeman who had waved her over stood waiting.
“I’ve gotta go, D. talk to you later.”
Amy didn’t want to hang up. She wanted to know what her sister had done, because clearly, Delia had done something. From the sound of it, something bad. Right now, though, she had to deal with the policeman glaring at her.
Amy tried to calm her breathing before she rolled down her window. “Hi, officer.”
He stared at her and Amy wondered what he saw. Probably just another distracted driver.
“Are you okay, miss?”
No. I’m not.
Amy took a breath, steadying her hands against the wheel. “Sure.”
He continued to stare. Was he going to give her a ticket? Her lower back began to sweat.
“You looked distracted. Did you see the accident?”
She nodded, and he looked away, leaning on her car but staring out over the stretch of highway still clogged with traffic. “Hard to miss.”
He frowned. “You need to be careful. Even hands-free phone calls can be distracting. Driving is a serious business.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” he countered.
The thread of calm Amy had been holding on to snapped. “Actually, yes. I know how precious life is. I’m a cancer survivor. I just found out it’s come back. So, yeah. I get it. Forgive me if I’m a little emotional right now, but I don’t need a lecture about driving safety.”
Amy turned away, blinking back tears. He was definitely going to give her a ticket now. Maybe she’d get arrested for yelling at an officer.
The officer put his hand through the open window and Amy flinched. But he held out a cloth handkerchief. Her fingers trembled as she took it.
“Thank you,” she said, wiping her eyes.
“Why don’t you sit until you feel ready to drive? Or I can always escort you home, if you’d like.”
His voice had changed, colored with a kindness she wouldn’t have imagined him capable of just moments before.
“No, thanks. I’ll be okay. Is it okay if I just sit here for a few minutes?”
“Sure. You’re out of the way over here. Take as long as you need.” When Amy tried to hand back the handkerchief, he waved her off. “Keep it.” He paused, then licked his lips. “My wife had cancer.”
Had. Amy closed her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
“No, no—she didn’t die.” He chuckled softly. “She’s just fine. We have two kids now. It sucked, but we got through it. Together. Do you have support?”
Amy nodded, thinking of her mother and sister. Then she thought of Sy and it felt like someone stabbed her directly in the heart.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Don’t give up. Keep fighting. The people who love you will be right there with you. Okay?” He tapped the side of her car twice, then walked away.
Amy could only nod her head. She watched in her rearview mirror as the officer joined the other emergency responders behind her car.
She wanted to fight, she did. But Amy didn’t know how much fight she had left. Especially when it felt like she had just given up the one person who had come to matter the most.
Chapter Sixteen
Sy
Sy set the screwdriver down and took a long pull from his bottle of water. He surveyed the pergola that he and the twins had almost finished building in the backyard of Amy’s bed-and-breakfast. It was a simple structure, but well-constructed. With Easton taking control and all three working through the morning, it had been easier than Sy thought.
He didn’t want to change careers, but he could understand why Easton felt so satisfied working with his hands. That morning, the pergola had been a pile of lumber and a few posts in the ground. Now, it was a few boards short of complete. Hopefully Amy would love it.
And when she got back, he hoped that he was going to ask her to go to the Mustangs’ prom with him underneath it. This felt like the kind of grand gesture he wanted, but the adult version of a promposal. No balloons or flowers or poster board sign, but something Amy wanted and could keep long beyond the date.
He took another long pull from the water bottle before setting it down.
“Hey!
No drinking on the job!” Elton called. “You’re about to get your wages docked.”
Sy grinned. “Nice try. But since I’m not getting paid and you aren’t my boss, I’ll take all the breaks I want.”
Elton only laughed. He balanced on a ladder, holding a beam in place for the top of the structure. Easton stood on another ladder, using an electric screwdriver to attach it. If it had been Sy on his own, he would have been using nails. But Easton arrived with his own tools and a plan. Apparently, screws would make the pergola more secure.
Thankfully there were already foundation posts in place from whatever structure had been here before. Otherwise, they would have simply been sitting, watching cement dry rather than putting the finishing touches on the pergola.
Maybe this was the kind of thing he should have asked about first. Sy might be overstepping about twenty boundaries. But Amy had said she wanted one, and it really did look great. Until he talked to her, Sy was going to second-guess everything.
But he’d been inspired that morning when he came downstairs, looking for Amy. She hadn’t been making breakfast and didn’t answer when he called her name. The house had that empty feeling, but Sy was concerned.
Her bedroom door had been open with all the lights on. He had paused in the open doorway. This was her personal space. But they were personal, weren’t they? Sy told himself that he was just making sure she was okay when he stepped inside. Not that he was being nosy.
But he was definitely being nosy when he didn’t find Amy but did find something interesting in her closet. One entire wall of her walk-in closet was covered with posters, photographs, and news articles Amy had printed out and taped up. All about Sy.
Some of them were years old. Sy traced his fingertips over the article announcing that he had been drafted to the San Antonio Mustangs. There was even one talking about him while he was still at UT, from his junior year. Ticket stubs were taped up next to it. She had come to see him play when he was in college? He never knew.
Amy had been following his whole career. It felt like a hand reached out and closed in a fist around his heart. That was when he called Easton, begging him and Elton to come help him with a grand gesture. Only after he went back upstairs to change did he see Amy’s note that she was going to be out for the morning.
“I think that’s it,” Easton said, finishing with a last screw.
He and Elton hopped down from their ladders, and the three of them stood shoulder to shoulder, admiring their work. The pergola stretched out over the cement patio, giving the area a more finished feeling. It still looked a little skeletal to Sy, like it was missing something.
“You sure it doesn’t need a roof?” Sy asked, eyeing the open latticework at the top. He didn’t understand the practical reason for a structure that covered something without actually covering it.
Easton shook his head. “Then it wouldn’t be a proper pergola. It would just be a roof over a patio.”
“Maybe I just don’t get pergolas. What’s the point?”
Easton chuckled. “It’s more about aesthetics than a practical purpose. We’ll get some climbing vines, maybe wisteria, and train them to grow up over the top.”
He said “we,” but Sy would be long gone before vines had time to grow up over the top. How was this going to work between him and Amy if they didn’t live in the same city? These were things they needed to have a conversation about before his worries got away from him.
Sy rubbed a hand over his jaw, feeling the growth of almost a week’s worth of stubble. “If you’re sure.”
“Based on the conversations we’ve had, this is exactly what Amy wanted,” Easton said.
Sy checked his phone again to see if Amy had called or texted to say when she would be back. Still nothing. A prickle of unease moved through his gut.
Was he wrong about everything? Was she on one of the dates?
Honestly, Sy had hoped she would cancel the remaining ones after the night before. It hurt a little thinking that she might still go out with two other guys this week. But maybe she was busy doing something else. The vagueness in her note made him worry.
Whatever had been building between them still felt fragile. Plus, he missed her. He wanted to see her smile and to pull her back into his arms. Maybe to relive a little of that kiss from the night before. Okay, he definitely wanted to relive that.
Elton pointed a finger at Sy. “I guess now you two are officially official since the internet knows.”
Sy tensed, looking between the twins. “What?”
Elton blinked. “You didn’t know that you’re today’s news? You did a favor for Pax, getting his fight out of the news. Now you’re back to the stop story.”
“Show me.” Sy’s stomach dropped to the ground as Elton pulled his phone out of his back pocket. He navigated to a website before putting it in Sy’s hand.
Sy stared down at the photos of him and Amy, clearly taken candidly by people at different points on their date the day before. One photo showed Sy and Amy laughing, mini-golf clubs in hand. There were a few at lunch, where they were leaning forward, smiling at each other. They looked like a real couple. Sy hated the intrusion, but he couldn’t stop smiling at the photos of himself and Amy. They looked like they were in love.
Emotion tugged at Sy’s chest as he scrolled back up to the top of the article. The headline read: Has the Perpetual Bachelor Finally Been Tamed? Hot Photos from Date with Mystery Woman!
He closed his eyes. Had Amy seen these? Sy didn’t know how she would feel about their private date being so exposed. Most of the women he’d dated since going pro knew what it meant to date someone famous. Heck, that’s why most of them went out with him—the chance to be seen.
That wasn’t Amy.
Sy sucked in a breath. But it was Delia. Had she seen these?
That question reminded him of the nagging worry he’d forgotten to do something. And now, that seemed like a pretty big something.
Sy had told Amy he’d make sure Delia knew that he wasn’t interested, since she didn’t seem to take the hint at dinner. But between his date with Amy, harassing her other date, and then the work this morning, he had forgotten. He handed the phone back to Elton.
“Congrats, man,” Easton said with a smile. “Amy deserves some happiness in her life.”
Elton shoved the phone in his pocket, then punched Sy in the shoulder. “I do make a pretty good matchmaker. Why don’t you look happy about this? Aren’t you used to being front-page news by now.”
“I am. Amy isn’t though. But it’s not about that.” Sy collapsed into a chair, threading his fingers through his hair. “I think maybe I screwed up.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.” Elton laughed, and Sy couldn’t even be bothered to glare.
“There’s a complication.”
Elton perched on the edge of the table. “Do tell.”
Sy blew out a breath and dropped his head into his hands. “Delia.”
Both twins groaned. Easton crossed his arms. “How is she a complication? You’re dating Amy, right?”
“Amy invited me to dinner at their house the other night. I apologized to Delia about prom. She was, uh, all over me. I kept putting her off, but I think in her head, she thought there was something more between us.”
Elton rolled his eyes. “I know what she saw: a meal ticket and a free ride to stardom and fame. I bet she wanted to be the one in those photos.”
“Maybe,” Sy said. Elton wasn’t that far off. Delia definitely wasn’t into him for his personality, that was for sure. “Anyway, I was supposed to talk to her yesterday and make it clear that we weren’t dating. And I sort of forgot.”
“That is a dilemma,” Easton said. “Especially if she’s seen the stories online.”
“Yep. It was weird that Amy wasn’t here this morning. She didn’t say where she was going and hasn’t messaged me. I just hope it’s not because of … this.”
“So, if Delia thinks you are some kind of item, now she
’ll think you’re two-timing her with her own sister.” Elton shook his head. “Boy, you really stepped in it this time.”
“Thanks,” Sy grumbled. “How do I fix it?”
“What you should have done in the first place,” Easton said. “Call Delia and be very clear about your intentions, both with her and with Amy. The sooner the better. And talk to Amy before Delia does.”
Sy stood and began pacing under the pergola, still smelling the fresh sawdust. “I feel like I’ve screwed everything up. Again. Like I’m caught in some kind of weird love triangle.”
Elton snorted. “You need to learn your shapes. It’s not a love triangle if you aren’t interested in Delia. Triangle implies you’re torn in your decision between two women. This is more like a straight line between you and Amy, with Delia trying to intersect it with her own line.”
Easton choked out a laugh. “Nice explanation of love triangles. Have you been watching Lifetime movies?”
“Hey, don’t knock Lifetime Christmas movies. Gets me in the Christmas spirit. Anyway, I call it like I see it,” Elton said, shrugging. “I stand by it. Not a triangle. And don’t let Delia cut between you two.”
“Maybe not. But still—sisters. Is this messed up? I mean, I didn’t technically ever date Delia. So, you think if I just call Delia, that would smooth things over?”
The twins exchanged a glance. “Sure,” Elton said, just as Easton said, “Hopefully.”
Sy tossed his empty water bottle at Elton. “Thanks for that vote of confidence.”
“You just crushed on Delia throughout high school,” Elton said. “But that was over six years ago. We were kids. We’re adults now. Don’t let Delia suck you back into high school drama, if that’s even her intention. But knowing her … it will be. Make the call. Move on. You can’t know how Amy or Delia will react until you talk to them.”
Sy nodded. “Thanks for the help. With the pergola, and everything. I’m going inside to make the call. Wish me luck.”
“I don’t believe in luck,” Easton said.
Stealing the Bad Boy Page 14
