“There is not one person on this earth who is better for me than you, Skittles.” She sobs, warm wetness hitting the tops of my thumbs and sliding down the digits. “Stop trying to push me away.”
“I’m not pushing you away. We’re over. We’re not a couple anymore. It’s as simple as that.”
Yeah, I don’t accept that.
“Breaking up with you was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.”
I hear more than one person behind me agreeing, but I ignore them. Kay is the only one whose opinion on the subject matters.
“Your reasoning may have been wrong…” She shakes her head as best she can in my hold. “But it was the right decision.”
“How?” My fingers flex, tangling into her hair. “How can you say that?”
“Because all the drama that surrounds me will bleed over onto you if we’re a couple.” A haunted pall falls over her expression. “The focus should be on how good of a football player you are, and how any team would be lucky to have you on their roster. Being with me makes you a target for a whole lot of other bullshit instead.”
“Do you really, truly believe I give a shit what that asshat Liam Parker has to say?” She flinches at his name and I step in closer, moving until the tips of my sneakers hit the flat of the staircase.
“Honestly…” Her shoulders slump so much she shrinks an inch. “It doesn’t matter what you think.”
“Way to kick a man when he’s down, Short Stack.”
“Not the time, Trav,” I mutter out of the side of my mouth.
“What I mean”—my girl rolls her eyes—“is we may not care what he has to say, but…” She pauses, inhaling the best she can through her stuffy nose. “There are people out there who thrive on what he’ll try to stir up. I will not be responsible for putting a target on your back.”
“Again, baby…” I tug her to the edge of her step, dropping my forehead to hers, bringing us closer. “I. Don’t. Care about Liam Parker.”
Another flinch.
“I get that, Caveman.” Hope blooms at my nickname. “But I do. I know what he’s capable of bringing down on us. I remember how others will take and twist and use the things he will say. I can’t go through that again.” That hope I felt shrivels and dies.
“Tell me.”
She shakes her head. “I can’t.”
“Kayla.” Her eyes snap to mine. “Tell. Me.”
Pressure fills my hands as all her weight collapses in on itself—like yesterday—falling to the stairs as she curls up to hunch over her knees.
I don’t know about you, Nova, but I’m over feeling helpless when it comes to Skittles. We need to come up with a game changer so we can stop feeling this way. I couldn’t agree with my inner coach more.
Behind me, I hear Grayson ushering everyone else away, and I take a seat next to Kay, putting an arm around her back and tucking her against my side.
She may be physically next to me, but with each tick of silence, she pulls farther away.
From somewhere inside her sweatshirt, I can feel her phone vibrate, though it doesn’t seem like she’s even aware of it—or anything else, for that matter.
I look up at the sound of shuffling footsteps to see Tessa standing in front of us, fidgeting with her cellphone. Her eyes bounce between Kay and me, the skin around her lips bleaching white as her mouth pinches to the side.
“Kay?”
Kay’s voice is slightly muffled, head still buried in her lap as she says, “It really freaks me out when you Taylors call me Kay.”
The first spark of her sass has me letting out an almost startled bark of laughter. It’s enough to have Kay lifting her head, her messy bun flopping around with the movement.
“Oh yeah?” Tessa folds her arms across her chest, leveling Kay with an expression that makes her seem older than her fifteen years. “And how do you think it makes me feel having to see you like this? I know I like to tell Jimmy I’m your favorite Taylor, but he was the only one able to help you when you were practically comatose.”
What the what?
“That’s a bit dramatic, T,” Kay mumbles.
“Is it really?” Tessa puts her hands on her hips, staring Kay down as if to say I dare you to argue.
My gaze bounces between the two. “I don’t care who, but someone better fucking explain.”
Tessa’s gaze flits back to Kay. When she remains silent, Tessa’s shoulders roll back and she switches her attention me. “Whatever…she can be pissed at me later.”
I assume the 'she' in this scenario is Kay, but my girl makes no move to stop her younger sister.
“When Uncle Mike died, Kay wasn’t just depressed. She…shut down so fully it was like she was a walking zombie.”
“You and Savvy need to stick to romantic comedies.” Yet again, Kay’s mumbled words are ignored.
“She didn’t talk. She barely ate, and when she did, it was because we forced her to. She only slept when the exhaustion got to be too much.” Again, her blue gaze goes back to Kay. “The worst was after days of being in bed, we finally convinced her to shower.” Her head tilts back to look at the ceiling. “Everyone was in the midst of planning the funeral, so it was a few hours before anyone thought to check on her.”
A lump the size of a football forms in my throat, a sense of unexplainable dread overtaking my body.
“She didn’t try to kill herself,” Tessa rushes to say, obviously having read my thoughts.
“Unlike what the press led people to believe.” I whip around at Kay’s hollow declaration. “I lost count of the number of stories—emphasis on stories—that were released about draft prospect Eric Dennings taking care of his suicidal sister in the wake of their father’s death.”
My eyes narrow. How is
