I bark out a laugh. It is clear to see how this guy became best friends with my girl.
“Yes. I would very much like to avoid that.”
JT rubs his chin in thought, the silence stretching between us. My pulse is erratic and I rub my damp palms along the tops of my thighs for no other reason than to have something to do while nerves course through my system.
“She’ll probably freak over that more than these.” It’s his turn to hold a phone out to me, and he directs me to flip through screenshots he saved to his camera roll. Instagram after Instagram post flies by with each flick of my thumb: UofJ411, TheQueenB (whoever the hell that is), more UofJ411, and finally…Liam motherfucking Parker. “And yes, that’s Liam who sent her the text.”
With a calm I’m not even close to feeling, I hand him back his phone before I send it flying across the room and into a wall. “Why doesn’t she have him blocked?”
“She does. We’re only assuming it’s him because the text said things that make it pretty clear it is him. We also assume he’s using burner phones, because each time he has texted her, it’s been from a different number.”
A buzz starts underneath my skin. “This isn’t the first time he’s contacted her?”
“No.”
“I’m gonna need a little more than that.”
My hackles rise as JT glances over his shoulder, checking to make sure the door to the bathroom is still closed before shifting to lean forward, his elbows braced on his knees, coffee cup held between his hands.
“He’s been making veiled threats about trying to hurt your chances in the draft.”
Brantley would freak if he heard that.
“That seems highly unlikely,” I say.
“Agreed.” JT nods. “But you see…PF isn’t necessarily the most logical person when it comes to you.”
She’s not the only one, my inner coach murmurs, tossing in his two cents.
JT falls silent, and when he finally speaks again, I’m not expecting the subject change. “I can’t believe you went to E’s.” If I’m not mistaken, there’s a gleam of respect in his eyes.
“What makes you think that’s how I found out she was here?” He’s correct, but learning the thought process that led to drawing that conclusion might help me understand more of their family’s dynamics.
“I was on the phone with him when you texted me.”
I start to tell him about what happened during my short time in Baltimore but cut myself off at the sound of the bathroom door opening. Everything else around me goes fuzzy as Kay steps out and becomes my sole focus. How the hell can she look so good fresh from the shower?
Her long curls are pulled up into a high ponytail, the strands still damp, leaving water spots behind on her If CHEERLEADING were easy they’d call it FOOTBALL tank. I can’t help but think the shirt is a dig at me. The wink she gives me when she sees my amused smirk only confirms my suspicion.
“What are you guys talking about?” Kay asks as she settles herself in my lap.
Home. The thought flits through my mind, and as crazy as it sounds, it’s true—Kay is my home.
The earlier anger over our bubble being popped by outsiders returns. Needing a distraction, I start to trace the large stars printed in the panel of NJA blue camouflage running down the side of her leggings.
“It seems someone at the U of J finally found their confirmation that we are, in fact, still a couple.” I figure I’ll start with the easier of the two issues, and I offer her my phone to scroll through the Instagram feed. As she looks at the posts, the sight of the purple and blue jeweled bands circling the fingers of the hand holding the phone only broadcasts the absence of the light green one I tried to add.
Will she wear it? Will she deem me worthy of being added to the collection meant to represent those closest to her? Should I take heart that she’s also not wearing the emerald one I got her for CK? Or is that just because I was the one who got it for her?
“I’m so sorry, Skittles.” I curl myself around her to speak softly into her ear, her body expanding with a deep inhalation. “I know this is the type of thing you hate.”
Her hair tickles my nose as she shakes her head. “It’s not your fault.”
I wish that were true. The only reason the busybodies at school are interested in her is because she’s my girlfriend. This is my doing. It’s my responsibility to fix it as much as I can.
“It is.” I ghost a kiss to her cheek. “But please don’t run from me.” I can’t go back to feeling the way I did these last couple of weeks.
She doesn’t say anything—not a word.
My gut clenches with uncertainty. Why isn’t she saying anything? Shit, what is she going to say when I show her the text from Liam? Am I about to lose her again?
Any lingering hope I held on to ticks away like seconds on a game clock as she rises from my lap and walks across the room, still silent.
I swallow down the bile in my throat as I watch her reach for her bag. This is it. She’s leaving me for good. The thought flattens me harder than any linebacker.
I shift my gaze to JT, but he hasn’t made any attempt at getting up. No, instead he looks like he’s settling into his seat more, drinking his coffee like he doesn’t have a care in the world. The fuck?
It’s then that I notice Kay isn’t pulling the strap of her bag over her head but tugging open the zipper. Unable to see what she’s doing with her back facing me, I hold my breath, praying like I do when the game is on the line and Noah is about to attempt an unheard-of-long-distance field goal to win.
Pain-filled eyes find mine when
