by S. E. Harmon
I don’t care what he said to your face, Ian hates you.
I didn’t bother to let her in on that secret. “No,” I finally said. “I don’t know her name. But I don’t want to talk about one of Ian’s ball bunnies. I want to talk about us. I want to talk about why you left. And then I never want to talk about this again.”
She swallowed. “All right. That’s fair.”
“So why did you leave?”
“Your father and I…. We were never right for one another. We met when we were so young.” She touched the necklace at her throat and worried the thin gold chain. “My father was so controlling and abusive that part of me thinks I just wanted to get out of his house. I wanted to be someone else, start somewhere else. Your father came along, and he said all the right things. Made me feel special.” She smiled faintly. “I guess my first clue should’ve been how well he got along with my father.”
“He’s a controlling man.”
“Randall is that.” She took a deep breath. “Before long it was like I was back home all over again. But this time I was under my husband’s thumb, not my father’s. He wanted to know everything I was doing. Where I was going? Who was going to be there? Who was I talking to? I didn’t have any of my own money. No education. I felt trapped. I didn’t feel like I had anyone to turn to, and I turned to the one thing that always seemed to understand me. Alcohol.”
I frowned. “I don’t remember you being much of a drinker.”
“You were so young, Britton, and I took pains to hide it. It wasn’t exactly something I was proud of.” She blew out a shaky breath. “It’s hard to explain how a little here and there to keep me steady went off the rails so badly, but it was out of control before I knew I even had a problem. Your father pretended he didn’t know until I started making mistakes.”
“What kind of mistakes?”
“Little things that turned into big things. I embarrassed him at a couple business dinners by getting loud and rude. I left dinner in the oven and passed out on the couch—I thought we were going to have to call the fire department. I forgot to pick you guys up from school quite a bit.” She drummed her fingers nervously on the table. “I shouldn’t have been driving with you two in the car at all. You remember the accident?”
I frowned. “Yeah. You hit a tree.”
I had a vague memory of a slow-speed crash on a residential street. She almost sideswiped a mailbox and overcorrected right into a young palm tree that folded under the impact. I told a bored Kelly about it later on and embellished to make the story juicer. By the time I finished, we’d hit the tree of life at eighty miles an hour.
“Those are the kind of mistakes I’m talking about. The kind that could’ve gotten you and your brother removed from our home,” she said bluntly. “Your father told me if something like that happened, he’d kill me. I just got better at hiding things.”
“I appreciate your candor. I’m not thrilled about what you’re being candid about, but it’s nice not to have to tiptoe around the truth.”
She half smiled, dug around in her purse for a few seconds, and pulled out something small and round. Upon further inspection, I realized it was a bronze chip. I picked it up off the table and turned it over. I ran my thumb over one of the inscriptions. To thine own self be true. “AA?”
She nodded. “That’s why I contacted you and Ian. I have a lot to make up for.”
Hmph. Her “I’m not here to apologize” line still stung, and I didn’t hesitate to throw it back in her face. “I thought one of the steps to recovery was apologizing to everyone you’ve hurt.”
“Actually we have to make a list of all persons we’ve harmed and try to make amends to them all. I owe you and Ian something much more than a simple apology. I want to make things right between us.” She reached for my hand, and I stared at it for a moment. Then I placed the chip in her outstretched palm. She smiled wryly and closed her hand around it. “I guess I deserve that.”
“This isn’t about hurting you.”
“Then what’s it about?”
That was the million-dollar question. At that point I felt as though I’d come looking for answers I wasn’t ready to hear. It was like telling someone you were hungry and then getting pissed when he made you a hamburger.
“It’s about understanding some of the choices you made,” I finally said. “That’s all.”
“Britton.” Her eyes were large and kind and surrounded by laugh lines. “Why don’t you just ask me what you want to—”
“Why did you leave us?” I blurted, and even though my cheeks pinked, I didn’t take it back. Maybe I sounded four years old, but I wasn’t leaving the table without asking the question that had burned me up since I was a little kid.
“I felt like I was having a nervous breakdown and dying slowly inside. I had to get out of there. He told me I could go, but I couldn’t take you and Ian with me.” She looked down at the table. “And what did I have to offer you anyway? I didn’t know where I was going to go. What I was going to do. He had all the power, and I was just… nothing.”
I hated her a little right then for making herself so human in my eyes. I kind of missed the monster I knew her as, the woman my father had painted her as my whole life. The woman who decided we were too much trouble and just walked away, free and happy as a bird. But absolution, such as it is, is never quite that clear cut.
“You shouldn’t have left us there,” I said. Not accusing. Just factual.
“I had to figure things out. Figure out where I was going to land before I came back for you two. Only by the time I did, I didn’t know if taking you back would be the right thing. I still wasn’t making a lot of money. I didn’t have a lot of space. I was trying to kick the alcohol, but I kept blowing it.” She blew out a breath as though she were stressed out just reliving it.
I bit down neatly on my tongue to keep from speaking. That was all well and good, but what about us?
She shook her head. “I watched you all at a distance for some time, and I just couldn’t do it. Your father loved you so much. I knew he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”
You were wrong on that count.
At my silence, she paled. “He didn’t, did he?”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her, tell her everything that went on after she left. But what good would it do? I knew that sometimes it worked out, that sometimes people reconnected with the parents who left them, and it was all for the best.
This wasn’t going to be one of those times.
I was glad I’d met with her, glad I finally knew why. But loyalty was everything to me. That was one of the reasons I loved Kelly so much. He’d been there through it all—the injuries, every one of them more painful and harder to heal from than the last, the breakups, each one of them more painful and annoying than the last. Start to finish, he’d been there, and he had my back every last time.
It was the first relationship I had that wasn’t about sex. Well… not all about sex, anyway. More like we were friends and he let me fuck him. A lot. Best of both worlds, really. That’s what happened when you fell in love with your best friend.
I loved him. And my number one priority had to be making him happy, not because he was high-maintenance or he’d make me miserable if I didn’t, but because Kelly’s happiness was my happiness. Shit. I stared at the table unseeingly. It wasn’t just some relationship that would fizzle out. It was the real deal. My forever and always.
You don’t keep forever and always shoved away as a dirty secret.
“Britton?” Her anxious voice snapped me back to the present. “Did he hurt you?”
“No,” I finally said. Not on the outside, anyway.
I really had bigger fish to fry than letting her assuage her conscience. My closet might be a gigantic walk-in, but I was pretty sure there wasn’t enough room in there for two, not anymore. I had to make a decision, and frankly I was tired of jeopardizing our relationship with bullshit. No matter what he said, I couldn’t expect him
to wait forever. It wasn’t fair to him or me.
I glanced at my phone. “I appreciate you sharing with me, but I really need to get going.”
“Okay, honey.” She stood as I did, and when I leaned down to kiss her on the cheek, she latched her arms around my neck and wouldn’t let go. Her small hands were surprisingly strong, and her hair was cool and soft as silk in my face. “I know I don’t deserve it, but thanks for meeting with me.”
I let her hang on to me as I bent stiffly with my arms at my sides like a broken Frankenstein’s monster. She was already a small woman, but up against my bulk, she felt like a child except for those strong hands—hands that had made crafts with me, hung Christmas decorations with me… picked up a suitcase and left me.
The forced hug felt two parts bad but one part good—good to that stupid, shy hopeful part of me I liked to keep buried, the part that always clicked on cute-animal links on Facebook and then deleted my browser history before Kelly could give me shit about it. I knew that stupid part of me would send her a stupid Christmas card that year, even if I never decided to see her again.
“You’re welcome,” I said gruffly into her honey-colored hair. And if my eyes stung a little, that was no one’s business but my own.
CHAPTER 21
Blue
IT WAS another week before I got up the courage to do what needed to be done, and it wasn’t a conscious decision. I paced in front of the general manager’s office at least four times and then changed my mind, but I finally called and made an appointment. It was only on the day that I realized the timing could’ve been better. It was the morning of the game that determined whether we went to the playoffs.
It was a full house in the general manager’s office as I sat with Ari, Coach Maxwell, and my attorney, Trent Michaels. In one corner Coach Maxwell was texting, leaned back so far in his chair I thought he might tip over at any minute. His casual gear let me know he’d been pulled from his workout—gray sweats, neon Nikes, and Ray-Bans wrapped around the back of his neck. He looked irritated to have his workout interrupted, but he was still calm, probably because he had no idea what I was going to say.
In contrast to Coach Maxwell’s relaxed air, Ari’s glare could’ve peeled the paint off the walls. He hated being out of the loop. And his agent mojo probably could tell I was about to say something potentially ruinous for my career.
His agent mojo was kind of right.
His attire screamed money—expensive this and expensive that, all put artfully together to give the illusion of low-key nouveau riche filled with ennui. He almost pulled it off but for the tension that rolled off him in waves.
I’d refused his calls and declined to tell him what the meeting was about or take him into my confidence, not until I knew where his loyalty lay. Right then I thought it was firmly with my father, someone who was definitely not invited to this meeting. The last thing I needed was Randall in my ear, convincing me it was a stupid idea and trying to put a spin on things that didn’t need to be spun.
I had no idea how the GM, Tim Barnes, was going to take my announcement or how far his PC attitude really went. Was it bullshit, or did he really mean it? Barnes was hard-nosed and no-nonsense, but he’d always been fair with me. I was going to see how far that went, because I was about to test drive his fairness—test drive it doing 180 miles an hour on the Autobahn.
The door opened in the awkward silence, and Barnes bustled in, pulling at his tie. “Sorry for the holdup.” We all watched silently as he settled into the chair behind his desk. “Every now and again I have to put on a monkey suit and meet with the boys upstairs.”
I had no idea who he was talking about, and I didn’t care.
“It’s not a problem,” I said a bit woodenly and cleared my throat. Getting to the point and being honest would probably be the best way to go. “Sir, I know you’re probably wondering why I requested this meeting.”
“I certainly am,” Ari muttered. “And what is Michaels doing here?”
“First and foremost, I’m here to protect Blue and his brand. My main priority is to make sure he’s treated fairly and that the integrity of his contract is maintained,” Trent said coolly. “Go ahead, Blue.”
“There may be some rumors about me going around,” I said.
“Oh?” Barnes gave me a mild look, and I couldn’t tell if he’d heard them or not. He was wily that way. “I don’t pay much attention to rumors, son.”
“Well, there’s a bit of truth to this one.”
“Montgomery, why don’t you just go ahead and spit it out?”
In the corner of my eye, I could see Ari sit up in his chair. “Britton,” he began in warning. “Maybe we should talk outside for a minute.”
So you can talk me out of it? His weaseling gave me courage. If I didn’t say it then, I probably never would.
“I’m bi….” I was almost tempted to plug something else in there, even if it didn’t make a lick of sense. I’m bicycle? I’m bicentennial? I’m binary code? I’m buy-ing a new car?
The look on Barnes’s face was almost comical. “Bi what?”
“Sexual,” I finished, a little louder.
He scratched his ear, yanked on it, really—hard. Just when I thought he was about to pull a Van Gogh, he let it go and cleared his throat. “And you’re telling us this because….”
“Oh God.” Ari’s face was crimson. “You’re not trying to pull a Michael Sam on us, are you?”
“I’m not pulling anything,” I snapped. “This is who I am. There’s someone that I love, and I love him too much to ask him to hide anymore. Not for me.”
Ari palmed his phone so fast I wasn’t sure where it came from. Maybe he had it implanted in his forearm. “I’m calling your father.”
“My father has nothing to do with this.”
“He’ll be able to talk some sense into you. He always does. You’re just not thinking clearly.”
“Ari—”
“It’s one thing to have some on the side—quietly, discreetly. You wouldn’t be the first or the last. But it’s quite another to put it out there like this.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“This is what we worked so hard for, Britton. You’re endorsement gold. And you’re going to throw that away over what? Some… some….”
“Don’t.” Even I was surprised at the anger in my voice. Barnes sat back a little, and Coach Maxwell’s gaze ping-ponged back and forth between us. “For the sake of our friendship, not to mention the interest of keeping your face exactly how it is, don’t talk about him.”
Ari stopped and swallowed hard, but it was clear from the look on his face that he wasn’t even halfway finished. “I still think we should call Randall.”
“Randall is no longer in charge of what I do and say,” I said clearly.
Ari gripped the phone so hard I thought the screen might shatter. My words were… freeing. I wanted to laugh. A little past thirty fucking years old, and I was finally able to stand up to my father. Another sixty years, and I might be able to tell him to go fuck himself.
I pointed at Ari. “If you want to have any input in how this goes, you’ll put your phone away.”
“I think we all need to take a step back,” Coach Maxwell said calmly.
Trent cleared his throat. “This doesn’t affect his performance, and it certainly doesn’t change the job he’s done for you on this team.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Barnes’s voice was calm but a little on the cool side. “However, no one is indispensable. Not even you, Montgomery. You know that. Andrew McAdams has been impressing the hell out of the coaching staff. He’s having a fantastic season.”
“I understand that.” McAdams was more than capable, and I wasn’t going to trash another player to try to save my own job. “He’s a great player.”
“Maybe we should start him.”
My breath caught in my chest for a second, and then the confidence took hold. A good team was about more than just fast hands and speed. The
veterans helped stabilize the team. A bunch of new faces would take a few years to adjust. Our team worked like a well-oiled machine just the way it was, and I was part of that—a big part.
“Maybe you should,” I agreed. “I’ll go with whatever you think is best for the team. But I don’t know why you’d start the freshman when you’ve got me in the wings.”
Barnes looked askance at me. “I thought you said he was a great player.”
“I did. And he is.” I raised an eyebrow. “But he’s not me.” There was a reason they called me the Blueprint, and as our GM’s eyes filled with amusement, I realized he knew that as well. Fucker. Just loved to screw with my head.
“You’re not going anywhere, Montgomery,” he finally said. “You’re going to have to do something more than suck some guy’s dick for us to let you go.”
“Umm… thanks?”
“Hell, I don’t care what my players do in their bedrooms. As long as you keep making rushing records, you can bang the entire defensive line.”
I scowled. Okay, there was being supportive, and then there was that.
Coach didn’t seem to notice as we lingered in the place where awkwardness was born. He ran a hand down his face. “You had a girlfriend. Many, in fact.”
“That’s kind of why I said bi, Coach.”
“Don’t get smart with me, Montgomery.” He glared. “This is going to be a PR nightmare. More so for you than us, but still.”
“Great,” I said sarcastically.
“We’re supposed to be all about the game. When did it become par for the course to talk about who everyone’s sleeping with? I wish the gays wouldn’t talk about it so much. We don’t need to know.”
I didn’t bother to tell him again that I was bisexual. I was too heated about the rest. The gays. Like they were some undercover army or something… although the uniforms would probably be fabulous. Focus, Blue.