I pause in the kitchen, memories stabbing at me. I feel my lip quiver as I stare at the counter, at that one particular spot.
A moment of hope glimmers in my mind. What if I could just explain to him that I was not going to take the job offer? That I haven’t had a chance to turn it down yet? Maybe we could just talk…
No. It doesn’t matter. That was not the way to deal with it. If he had something to say, he should have just said it to me. He should have just asked. Why wouldn’t he just talk to me before publicly breaking my heart and humiliating the crap out of me? That was just terrible.
My blood boils with rage.
“Jackass,” I say out loud, slamming the toy ring onto the counter and rushing out of the room.
As I whip the Jeep down the horrendously long driveway, I force myself to take steady, slow breaths.
I stop the car at the gate and wait for it to open. I don’t give in to the temptation to turn around to glance at the house. I don’t look back. And I never will.
TWENTY-NINE — Leo
I whip the Mercedes into the garage, every part of me feeling completely numb. My phone hasn’t stopped vibrating since I left the interview. No doubt Ryan is having a brain aneurism or some shit, but I really don’t care. I don’t care about my reputation, or my career, or my stupid agent right now. I care about her, and she’s gone.
No 2003 Wrangler in the garage. I can’t say I’m surprised. I’m sure she watched the interview and has no idea why I’m mad. She doesn’t know that I found out about her little secret, her stupid dating app.
“Hope you meet your special match,” I grumble to myself as I get out of the car and slam the door as hard as I can. She refused to trust me. She refused to even give us a fair chance.
I walk into the house, feeling like my body weighs a thousand pounds and I’m stepping through quicksand. I’m met with an oppressive and quiet emptiness. No Tebow.
Emotion rises in my throat as I swing open the door to the guest room and see all of her stuff is completely gone. The bed is made. It’s like she was never even here.
I clench my jaw, struggling with the mix of anger and pain that’s spinning through my gut. She’s hurting. The thought tugs at me, but it doesn’t matter. She doesn’t want me. She wants someone else. Some mystery man from an app who doesn’t have a reputation for being a player and doesn’t remind her of her dicky ex.
I shake my head, trying to put her out of my mind. So I had feelings for her. So what? I also just had a killer workout this morning and need to make a protein shake. And that’s what matters.
I shake my head and shut the guest room door with a bang. “Fucking priorities, Sterling,” I say to myself through gritted teeth. “Distraction. Just a damn distraction.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath. I head back into the kitchen, surprised by how much I miss her idiotic lug of an animal bounding around my house. Trying and failing to focus on protein and vitamins, I accidently open the liquor cabinet like an idiot. Before I can shut it and kick myself for being a dumbass, that stupid bottle of Jose Cuervo catches my eye.
“Goddammit.” I press my elbows onto the counter and drop my head into my hands, tugging on my hair and trying to figure out how the hell to get her off my mind. “She doesn’t want you,” I say out loud, fully aware that I sound like a crazy person and also fully not giving a fuck.
As I’m leaning on the counter, I open my eyes, and my gaze finds one tiny object across from me. That little plastic ring. The ring my dad gave me that I gave to her. The ring that used to fill me with memories of my dad and motivation to better myself on the field just makes me bitter and pissed off now.
I pick it up and roll it around in my hand for a second. My mind slips back to all those weeks ago. In the locker room before the press conference. It’s perfect, she said, looking up at me with those green eyes, spewing football knowledge and sexy charm.
Without thinking, I chuck the ring as hard as I can across the kitchen, and it hits the wall. I sink down onto the ground, anger still pumping through me.
The silence of the house is broken by the incessant vibrating of my phone. I know without a doubt it’s Ryan calling to rip me to shreds and tell me my career is over, but I pick it up and glance at the screen anyway, fueled by some deep hope that she’s the one calling. That I’m gonna look at it and see those stupid football and diamond ring emojis.
Incoming group FaceTime call: Elliot Danes and Chase Kennedy
I guess shit spreads pretty quickly when you say it on ESPN. Damn. I stare at the phone for a long second as it buzzes over and over again. I’m gonna have to face my teammates eventually, and there’s no one who can help me get over all this better than my boys.
I slide my finger across the phone screen to accept the call.
“Hey, guys,” I mumble, wiping my forehead with my palm.
“Dude…” Chase draws out the word, his tone filled with sympathy and confusion.
“Leo, what happened?” Elliot furrows his brow and looks at me through the phone camera. “Was it really fake?”
I let out a slow breath. “It was, originally. But then it got pretty fucking real. To me, anyway.”
Elliot narrows his eyes. “Yeah, when we talked after the Pats game, I was convinced you were head over heels for her.”
“I am,” I blurt out. “I mean…I was. Sort of.” I let my voice trail off, knowing I sound like a grade A pussy.
“Wait a second, I’m lost.” Chase shakes his head.
“Of course you are, dumbass,” Elliot groans with an eye roll.
“So, the whole engagement…” Chase nods with each word, and I can see how bizarre the entire thing must sound from an outsider’s perspective. “Was fake. For your reputation? Because of the strip club shit with Dominic Cassano?”
“Yep,” I affirm. “It was all pretend.”
“Until it wasn’t. Am I right?” Elliot asks.
The question seems to press physical weight onto my chest. “Yeah. We got really involved, and I don’t just mean sex. I told her shit I never really tell anyone. And she gets me. We’ve gotten so close.” I stare at the two guys on my phone screen, realizing that they are two of the most single guys I know. I probably sound like an idiot.
“Okay,” Chase says sharply. “So you ended up really liking each other. She’s cool, she’s hot, she’s not like other chicks. Maybe she could even be”—he holds up air quotes and makes a face like he’s about to puke—“the one. Yes?”
I take in the words that used to scare me and think of her. The one. “Yeah.”
Elliot frowns. “I’m not following. Why did you throw it all away in that interview, then? So what if it started out fake? It’s real now, and that’s what matters.”
I grit my teeth and prepare to sound more pathetic than I ever have in my entire life. “I thought it was real. It seemed like we both felt the same way, and like it was gonna last for…” Ever. “A long time. But then her phone lit up right in front of me while she was sleeping, and she made a fucking Flicker account. Like, recently. Like she’s trying to meet someone. And it makes no sense, because I thought we were awesome together. But she went behind my back and clearly has no interest in being serious with me, so screw it.”
Elliot and Chase stay silent for a second.
“Are you sure you read it right?” Elliot asks. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you, bro. She’d marry you tomorrow.”
Hope flickers in my head. Would she? I shut the childish thought down faster than it came up.
“Doesn’t matter.” I shut my eyes. “It’s sure as hell over now.”
“If you wanna hit the bars later, ya know, get some ass to help you forget about her, you know who to call.” Chase grins.
The very thought of hitting on girls in a bar makes me feel nauseated. “Yeah, man. I’ll let you know.” I sigh. “All right, guys, I gotta go deal with my dickhead agent.” And stare at my phone, hoping she calls. “Thanks for the support.”<
br />
“Anytime, Leo.”
Chase and Elliot hang up, and once again, I’m deafened by the silence and emptiness of my own giant house.
She’s not gonna call, and if she did, I have no idea what the hell I would say. It’s over. And it’s just now hitting me that, even if we could save it, even if the Flicker notification was some sort of misunderstanding and she could easily give me an explanation…what I just did in that interview, well, that was the nail in the coffin.
“Doesn’t matter,” I mutter to myself, getting up off the kitchen floor. “She wants a different guy. She wants a nice guy.”
THIRTY — Frankie
“Here, honey.” My mom holds out a black and gold Steelers mug with wisps of steam floating above it. “Some coffee for your troubles.”
I wipe my red nose and take the mug from her, delighting in its warmth. “Thanks, Mommy.”
She curls up on the couch next to me. “Mommy.” She chuckles. “That’s how I know something is really wrong.”
I manage a weak smile and wrap my hands around the cup of coffee. “It was maybe a little more than just a crush.”
My mom rolls her eyes playfully. “Really? I had no clue.”
“Doesn’t matter now. He turned out to be everything I was afraid he’d be. You were right. It was a risk.” I sniffle. “A stupid one.”
My mom wraps an arm around me and squeezes me into a loving embrace. “Love is never stupid. I watched the interview, you know.” She raises her eyebrows at me. “He looked hurt. It seemed like something was really bothering him. Did you guys have some sort of fight? Anything that would prompt him to say that?”
I swallow. “That’s the thing, Mom. We were really happy. We were really starting to let go and fall for each other. It felt like something so insanely special. But there was this job offer. From Ryan Kingsley.”
She pulls back and angles her head. “Tell me more.”
“Well, it was for me to be an agent. But it would mean that Leo and I would have to break up for real. Forever. Since Ryan’s agency represents him, it would be a conflict of interest. It didn’t take a ton of consideration for me to decide I would rather be with Leo and try for a job at a different agency. I know it might sound crazy, but—”
“It doesn’t,” she assures me, placing a hand on my knee. “You found love. And you chose it. And you, my brilliant, passionate, wonderful girl, will find a job that’s right for you.”
Her words bring a tingle of relief and hope into my chest. “I know. But with Leo…I think it’s too late. I truly don’t know why he said all that stuff in the interview, why he decided to end it in such a cruel way. But I guess he found out about the job before I had a chance to tell him I was going to turn it down.”
“So…it seemed like you were hiding something from him,” she clarifies.
“Exactly.” I nod. “But it’s all irrelevant now. What he did in that interview, regardless of his motives, that hurt. That was messed up.”
My mom purses her lips and leans back on the sofa. “I agree, sweetie. I do. But if you could just talk to him…”
“No.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Because I don’t even know if that’s the real reason. It’s just a guess. Maybe Luke was right about him all along. Maybe he really is just a douchey NFL playboy who was using me for the sake of his career.” The reality of my own words stab me harder than I could have imagined.
“I find that really hard to believe. I saw you two together when he was here. I saw that spark. He adores you.”
The words make my eyes sting and my vision go blurry. “I thought he did. But apparently not.” I wipe a tear from my cheek. “Whatever the reason was…he did what he did. And I can’t see how we could ever be together after that.”
My mom smiles sympathetically and brushes my tangled hair with her fingers. “Drink your coffee.”
I take a sip from the steaming mug, and I’m stunned by the sudden sting of alcohol. “Mom!” I choke. “What’s in this?”
“Whiskey,” she says calmly, as if that’s just totally normal. “Helps with the heartbreak.”
“Can’t argue with that logic.” I shrug and take a big slurp of the hot, spiked coffee, letting the burn warm my chest and trying to will it to ease the restless pain.
“It’s all going to be fine.” My mom pulls me in for another hug.
I want so badly to believe her.
Suddenly, I hear the front door slam shut. “Hey, guys! Is that Frankie’s car out front?”
Tebow perks up at the sound of Luke’s voice and leaps off the couch and rushes to greet him.
“Frankie, your dog and your car are here,” he yells through a laugh. “That must mean you’re nearby.”
“In here,” I say weakly, not exactly thrilled to see the person who repeatedly warned me not to trust Leo Sterling.
I brace myself for the I told you so and offer Luke a meager wave from my curled-up position on the couch.
“I saw the interview.” He drops down onto the couch next to me and places a hand on my shoulder.
I turn to him and frown. “Go ahead. Gloat.”
He furrows his brow and shakes his head. “Frankie, I’m not a dick. I didn’t come here to gloat. I know you’re really hurt. But what exactly happened? When we talked last, after you found the Flicker account I made for you, it sounded like you two were really falling in love. Especially because you insisted on deleting it immediately.”
“We were. At least I thought. I don’t know, Luke. There was this job offer, but I decided not to accept it. I hadn’t told him yet. Maybe he thinks I lied. Maybe he just used me.”
Suddenly, everything becomes too much. I look at Luke and think about his pregnant wife and his flawless marriage. I think about Leo and how we could have had that. None of this makes any sense.
Tears pour down my face again, and I stop even trying to form words. My shoulders shake with every sob as my oldest brother and my mom hug me from either side. I silently wish the pain would go away but know it can’t.
Luke pulls away and clenches his fists. “I hate that guy. I hate that he did this to you. You trusted him, and he hurt you in such a disgusting way. Without so much as an explanation.” Luke is standing now, seething with anger. “Frankie, give me your phone.”
I shoot him a warning look. “Don’t you even think about calling him.”
He holds his hands in the air defensively. “I’m not gonna call him. I want to call Eric and Drew and get them over here tonight. We need a Monroe night. We need to drink and laugh and throw a football and make Frankie feel better. And in order to do that, we have to all be together.”
My mom smiles at my brother and looks at me. “I think it’s a wonderful idea. Are you up for it, hun?”
I don’t have to think about it for very long. I definitely don’t want to go sit alone in my apartment, feeling sorry for myself all night, and I’m sure as hell not going back to Casa de Dickhead. “Of course I’m up for it. But why can’t you use your own phone?”
Luke hesitates. “I left it in the car.”
I shrug. “All right. And, Luke…”
He pauses and turns around on his way out of the room to call my brothers. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.”
He still looks pained with anger at Leo. “It’s okay, sis. I was trying to protect you. But, truth be told, I was starting to get kinda stoked for you guys. Never saw you that happy before.”
The knife digs harder into my heart at the thought. I sigh and curl into the couch cushion next to me. Shutting my eyes and letting more tears fall, I down the remains of the whiskey coffee, hoping it will wash away the pain, even though I know it won’t.
THIRTY-ONE — Leo
Jesus, will this phone ever stop ringing? I’m running—no, sprinting on the treadmill, blasting music, and hoping that pushing my body to its physical limits will shut off the constant slamming of emotions in my chest.
I click off the trea
dmill and pause my music to flip the phone over and see who’s calling. Ryan? AJ? Other teammates? I wonder whose turn it is to give me shit about screwing up my career, relationship, and life, all in a twenty-minute interview.
Trying to catch my breath and wiping sweat off my forehead, I hop off the machine and stare at the phone. Any attempt to breathe is completely useless as the name on the incoming phone call registers in my mind.
Frankie. With the tiny football and diamond ring.
A million thoughts race through my mind in a split second. Does she want to talk? Does she want to yell at me? Probably. I remember the little red Flicker logo on her phone and feel the rush of anger all over again. Do I even want to talk to her?
That question is answered by my thumb, which evidently decided for itself that I need to answer this call, as I swipe it across the screen and accept the call.
I swallow hard. “Hey.” Still slightly breathless from my treadmill sprint, the word comes out as more of a croak.
“I’m surprised you answered, dirtbag.”
Whoa. That is not Frankie. Fuck, did her stupid dating app work already? She’s replaced me with some sweet and doting boyfriend who called me from her phone to bitch me out?
“Uh, who is this?” I ask slowly, the anticipation of finding out the answer causing a low-grade anger to settle in my gut.
“This is Luke. Frankie’s brother.”
I bask in the initial relief that it’s not some new boyfriend already, but I am quickly met with another level of concern. Why the hell is Luke calling me?
I frown and pause for a while. “Hey, man. What’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you what the fuck is going on. My baby sister is sitting here on our parents’ couch bawling her eyes out over you. She thought you were different, Leo. We all did. We all fell for your bullshit, and now you completely broke my sister’s heart. And let me tell you, jackass, she does not deserve this. She does not. What were you thinking with that interview? Just because Frankie didn’t tell you about Kingsley’s job offer? She was going to turn it down, dumbass.”
Wild Ride (South Florida Riders Book 1) Page 16