He did say a word…just not the right ones, but that was between him and me.
“No, it’s not. We have a youth center hanging in the balance. So no, it’s not enough.” And because it didn’t make sense. He knew how important this was to me. He knew, dammit. He saw me with my kids. He skated with my kids. The guy who ran from me three nights ago—the guy who said no over and over—the guy who relented…he didn’t do it to lay some sort of trap so he could be cruel.
“So you’re just going to let him run all over you and get away with it?”
“Don’t piss me off, Eve. I’m exhausted and I have just enough anger to unleash on him. I’m not interested in wasting it with you.”
“Good,” she said, beginning to pace. “You do that. While you’re at it—”
“No more. Just knock this shit off. You’re not going to run all over me in the name of what he did. Do you really think I’m that weak that you can just plow right through me and what I want?”
She stopped and whipped around. “And you want him?”
“That’s what this is really about, isn’t it?”
Hurt crept into her eyes and for a second, instincts told me to waver—to back off and leave this alone, but that’s what got me here. Avoiding the hard shit. Keeping the peace. Fearing the loss of the few connections I had in Galloway Bay.
And I’d had her for longer than almost anyone else.
I wanted a lot of things. Yeah, I wanted him. But right now, in this moment, I wanted some damn respect—and I didn’t want to lose Eve. I had to risk losing her by putting my foot down to have any hope of keeping her. Because I couldn’t unsee the dynamic and its power to destroy everything if I didn’t grow up and speak out.
“What you’re doing right now is no different than what he just did. Actually, it’s worse. Instead of just being indignant about what he did—which sucked by the way—you bulldozed in here, not trusting me to take care of me.”
At least Priest had given me that. In a way, by not telling me first, he showed me he trusted me to handle it. To be an adult. He did it with the information at hand. Oh, he was still wrong. So fucking wrong. And he’d pay for it. But from a coach’s standpoint, I could see the appeal. Tilly was a strong, agile force on the track when she wasn’t targeting me over childhood slights. Take those out of the equation and our chances only grew.
“I’m thinking about you,” she pleaded as she took a step toward me.
I took a step back. “No, you’re not. You’re thinking about us being together again—and we’re over, Eve. We talked about this.”
“Don’t you think I know that?”
“No, I don’t.”
“The rest of the team spoke up at the practice. It’s not like I’m the only one who feels this way.”
“Yes, and are they here right now? I told everyone to stop and what did they do? They respected it.”
Eve pulled her shoulders back, a showing of stubborn pride for her. “I don’t know how to not protect you.”
“I know. And that’s my fault. You came into my life at a really scary time and it felt good to have someone take over a little bit. To have a best friend I could count on to have my back. But at some point, it felt a little too good—too easy. It’s bled into our team, Eve. I didn’t see it until tonight. And we can’t afford that.”
“So, what are you saying, that you don’t want me as a best friend now?”
“No, I’m saying I want you as my best friend again. We’re not there right now. I can’t talk to you about—it’s just not the same.”
“I still love you.” She said the words—her voice so low and full of pain it made it hard for me to breathe.
“And I still love you. But it’s different for me than it is for you and I don’t know how to help you get over that. I don’t know if I’m even the right person. But I know I need you to let me go. I need you to respect my decisions. You can’t say you love me and that you want to protect me, while taking away my choices. It’s the same thing he did to me tonight.”
“And you choose him?”
“To coach us, yes.”
“But you want more?”
“It doesn’t matter what I want, because I can’t have it.”
She stepped into me, backed me right against the wall, and kissed me, tugging my bottom lip between her teeth like I used to love.
And I felt nothing. No spark. No want. No need.
Just regret. So much regret that I might have ruined my single most important friendship by crossing the line into more.
She stilled then, her eyelids slowly opening, her ice-blue eyes on mine. “It really is over, isn’t it?”
I cupped her cheek, the wounded look in her eyes squeezing my heart as we lost something in that moment. A piece we had before we turned into lovers—something that attached itself to the attraction that flickered between us, only to die when that mutual attraction faltered.
She still wanted me—which might very well be her pride talking—but that look in her eyes told me she felt it too.
“It’s really over,” I whispered, wishing I could hug her, but knowing I’d be sending her the wrong message if I did. If I ever wanted to be able to hug her again, I couldn’t wrap my arms around her now.
She leaned her forehead on mine, her fingers curled around the back of my neck. “God, I love you so fucking much. I don’t want to let you go.”
“Or are you afraid of finding the one who’s really right for you, Eve? They’re out there somewhere and when you find them, nothing in your world will ever
