Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry I acted like a dick before. That guy, Leo…he’s press, and I didn’t—”
“Want anyone to find out. Namely, your dad. Yeah, I got that.”
Well, if he gets that, then why is he so mad?
“I shouldn’t have said the things I said—”
“No, you shouldn’t have.”
“I don’t know why I said them. I was rambling. But I am sorry.”
“Yeah, you said.”
He’s still staring at me with unblinking, burning blue eyes, frying me on the spot. Arms still folded across his chest. Jaw set.
“You’re still mad…” I edge out.
“No shit I’m mad. Actually, I’m fucking furious. I am sick of this, Ari.”
Panic lances across my chest. “Sick of what?”
“The secrets. The lying. You know how I feel about it, but I’ve been doing it for you. Now, I’m done. I said two weeks. It’s two weeks today. Time’s up. I’m not hiding us anymore.”
Shit, has it really been two weeks already?
“You said a few. Not two,” I counter.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” he yells, startling me. He drops his arms from his chest and drags a hand through his hair. “I just don’t fucking get it. What the hell are you so afraid of? What do you think your dad is going to do? You think he’ll, what? Come between us? That’s bullshit, and you know it. I went with it to make you happy, but this? This isn’t making me happy.”
“I’m not making you happy?”
He laughs hollowly. “Have you been listening to a fucking word I’ve said? I said, this isn’t making me happy—what happened at the arena. Talking to your dad every damn day and pretending like I’m not dating his daughter, that I’m crazy about her! Watching every damn thing I say in front of him in case I slip up. I’m not that fucking guy, Ari. I told you, I don’t like liars, and I refuse to be one for you anymore.”
“I just need more time…” I push to stand, my legs feeling wobbly.
“Time for what?” he yells, frustrated.
With you. I need more time with you…before you realize the mistake you’ve made by being with me and leave. And then I’ll be alone again.
I stare down at my hands, swallowing down those words, afraid to say them out loud.
“I just don’t fucking get it. I don’t get you! You know what? Why don’t you just fucking call me when you’ve figured your shit out? Because I’m done.”
Done.
My eyes flash up, my chest clenching in panic, just in time to see him walking out the door, slamming it behind him.
I’m exhausted. I haven’t slept all night.
I picked up the phone a dozen times to call Ares and chickened out. I don’t know how to explain to him what’s going on in my head. I don’t want to tell him because I don’t want to alert him to the one thing I’m afraid he’ll do—leave.
Which is stupid because he’s done that exact thing.
I didn’t want to tell my dad, for fear that Ares would leave me. And he’s left me anyway because I won’t tell my dad about us.
Confused? Me, too.
Some great frigging logic I have there.
But then I never claimed to be smart.
“I’m done.”
I don’t even know if we’re still together right now.
I’m trying not to panic.
He never said, We’re over. He said, “I’m done.”
But then, isn’t that basically the same thing?
Jesus. What a mess.
I can’t believe how badly I’ve screwed things up.
I thought getting clean meant I’d make smart decisions. Apparently, that’s not the case. I’m stupid whether I’m drunk or sober.
I had this great guy, who I didn’t want to lose, and I’ve lost him anyway.
Now, there’s only one thing that’s going to fix this—I hope…and that’s telling my dad about me and Ares.
And pray to God that I’m not too late to fix things with Ares.
I guess, if I am, then I don’t have to worry about my dad getting into Ares’s head and him dumping me.
That would be funny if it wasn’t so damn sad.
I walk up the stairs, heading to my dad’s office. Ares isn’t here today. None of the players are. After a game, they don’t come into train for a few days.
So, at least it’s giving me a chance to talk to my dad before I see Ares.
I knock on my dad’s door and push it open, popping my head around. He’s at his desk, eyes on his computer screen.
“Hey, you got a minute?” I ask him.
His eyes come to me. “Of course.”
I walk in, letting the door close behind me, and take the seat across from him.
“What’s up?” he asks, pushing his keyboard aside and folding his hands on his desk.
“I’m seeing Ares. I like him. We’re dating,” I ineloquently blurt out.
Aside from a twitch in the corner of his eye, my dad doesn’t react. There’s nothing—no annoyance or anger. Just an eye twitch.