Unsaid Things (Players of Marycliff University #4)

by Jerica MacMillan

  They bathed in the afterglow, his weight on her making her feel safe and loved. After cleaning up and pulling on clothes, they made their way out to the kitchen in search of food. While Abby opened the fridge, holding up a container of leftover pasta at Lance with a raised eyebrow, he pulled plates and silverware out and set them on the counter. She covered the dish with a paper towel and popped it in the microwave.

  Lance’s arms came around her from behind, his bare chest pressing against her as he snuggled up to her. “I’ve been meaning to ask, how’s your mom?”

  Abby tried not to stiffen in his arms, but couldn’t stop her initial reaction. She finished pushing the buttons on the microwave before she answered. “Um, as good as can be expected, all things considered.”

  “Hmm.” Lance’s noncommittal hum rumbled in his chest, the vibrations normally soothing to Abby, but right now she wanted space. But he kept her between himself and the stove under the microwave. “What’s wrong with her? You never said.”

  “Oh, um, I didn’t?” Of course she didn’t, because there wasn’t anything wrong with her mom. Nothing new, anyway. “Oh, uh, well, that’s why they’re doing tests. They don’t know exactly what’s wrong.”

  He grunted. “What kind of tests are they doing? And since you gave her the money earlier this week, do you know if they’ve done them yet?”

  Shit. Why was he asking so many questions? Because he was a good guy and the best boyfriend she’d ever had. God, she hated lying to him. For a brief moment Megan’s words echoed in her brain that she should tell Lance the truth. Now was as good a time as any for that kind of confession, both of them blissful and sated. But what if he got mad? Would he understand why she’d lied in the first place? And how would he ever find out anyway? She could just tell him that they didn’t find anything serious with her mom in a week or so and that would be that.

  She took a deep breath. “Um, yeah, I think so. They did a blood draw already, and she’s supposed to get an MRI I think this week. I was planning on calling tomorrow to check in and see if there’s any news.” Any news on whether Aaron had left or not yet.

  Lance gave her a little squeeze and let go, the beeping of the microwave drawing her attention back to the food. She was glad he’d moved away, filling water glasses for both of them. She avoided looking at him, though she could feel his gaze like a physical weight. Lying to him sucked. And it was almost impossible that he believed her, since she was a terrible liar. The only other time she’d lied to him was when she’d tried to get out of spending time with him shortly after they’d met. She hadn’t trusted him at the time, hadn’t trusted his motives—the football player with the player reputation. But he’d called her on it then, so maybe he believed her now.

  She couldn’t justify her lie anymore—not even to herself—but it was too late. She’d lied in a moment of panic, and now she got a twisting, sinking feeling in her gut whenever the topic came up. How was she going to fix this?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  After Gabby’s visit, Lance managed to bring up the subject of Abby’s mom a few more times. Whenever he did, Abby wouldn’t meet his eye, confirming each time that she was lying. At first it had been hard to stay calm and not demand the truth. But he got better at it, still determined that she choose to tell him.

  The last time he’d asked, the week after they’d gone out to dinner to celebrate Chris doing well at the Regional Combines and getting invited to the Super Regionals, she’d fiddled with the hem of her sleeve and said that the tests didn’t show anything.

  He wrinkled his brow, opening his mouth to press for more, but stopped himself. “Okay. So she’s okay?” Of course she was okay. Nothing had been wrong with her in the first place. He was sure of it. He wanted to push her into telling him nothing had ever been wrong and the money had really been for her brother for some reason. But he didn’t.

  “Um, yeah. She’s fine.” She looked up from her sleeve, but still wouldn’t meet his eye. “Well, as fine as she ever is, anyway.”

  “Yeah.” He hugged her, keeping up the pretense that he believed her. She held herself stiff against him. He’d noticed that anytime the subject of her mom and the money came up, she didn’t want him to touch her. At least it seemed that she felt guilty about lying to him. Not that that made him feel much better.

  She shrugged him off. “I, uh, have a project due tomorrow, so I need to work on that.”

  He let her go, still standing behind the couch, watching her get out a notebook and papers and settle at the kitchen table. Sitting down on the couch, he turned on the TV and found a rerun of Modern Family to distract him, keeping the volume down so he wouldn’t disturb her.

  That didn’t last long, though. “Um, Lance?”

  Abby’s tentative voice drew his attention. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

  “Uh, would you mind turning off the TV? Or watching something on your laptop in the bedroom? I’m working on a translation project and the TV in the background is really distracting.”

  He hit the power button on the remote, surprised. She didn’t normally do translations, and when she had to read for her Spanish classes she went into the bedroom if he was home. “Of course. What class is that for?” He sat up straighter so he could see her over the couch.

  She looked down and fiddled with the papers on the table, moving them around. “Oh. Um, well, it’s not for a class.”

  Curiosity piqued, he stood and went over to the table. “Oh yeah? What’s it for?”

  “Doctor Ramirez helped me find work translating documents. Mostly simple, boring stuff like birth and death certificates.” She shrugged, still not looking up at him. “It pays decently.”

  As she spoke, Lance’s brows drew together even more, and he pulled out a chair and sat down next to her, hands resting on the table. “Why are you worried about getting more money?”

  She glanced at him and looked back down, fiddling with her pen. “I wanted to replenish my savings.”

  “You know you don’t have to worry about rent.” He reached for her hand when she started to tug at her lower lip.

  “I know. But …” She looked around the room like the words she wanted might be written on the walls before her gaze finally—finally—settled on him, her eyes meeting his. “It’s … hard. I like having that cushion. It makes me feel better, more secure. Like I can take care of myself if I need to.”

  “But, Abby, I can—“

  She shook her head and cut him off. “I know. I know you make plenty of money, and you’ve told me a million times. I know. But …”

  He squeezed her fingers, trying to be encouraging. Maybe if she finished that sentence he would finally understand her need to keep their finances separate, her need for independence. “But what?”

  She pulled her hand from his, dropping her gaze to her hands in her lap. “But …” Drawing in a deep breath, she seemed to be trying to gather her courage along with it. “I know you love me. And I love you. But beyond that we haven’t made any promises to each other. We haven’t … Nothing’s guaranteed. Even the people that are supposed to always be there for you don’t live up to their end of the bargain.”

  His hands clenched, his stomach twisting at the implication that he might bail on her. “Abby.” He put as much weight behind her name as he could, hoping to get her to look up at him.

  She did. But her mouth was tight, and she shook her head again. “I know what you’re going to say, Lance. I know. But it’s not about you. No, I don’t think you’re going to cut and run with no warning. But …”

  “But.” His voice was dark now, and he stood, unwilling to listen to this. “But you’ll always judge me against your bastard father and asshole brother.”

  Hurt tinged her blue eyes when she looked up at him. And he felt like a dick, but he didn’t care right now. That she compared him to them and thought he might ever treat her like that pissed him off. She spread her hands palms up in a gesture of helplessness.

  With a shake of his head,
he looked away. He needed to get out of here and clear his head before he said something he regretted. This shouldn’t piss him off as much as it did. It was nothing new. He knew that deep down she always made that comparison, always created some kind of fallback plan just in case. Just in case he left. That’s what that meant. Just in case he abandoned her.

  And here he was with a ring stashed in the closet, waiting for more than two months to propose. But would it ever work if she wouldn’t trust him? But there was that other idea in her statement—the idea that a promise might make her feel more secure. Would it really? And how could he expect her to make that kind of commitment when she still wouldn’t tell him the truth about where her money had gone?

  He needed to think, to figure things out. And he couldn’t do that here, sitting still. “I’m gonna go work out. I can’t—I need—“ He blew out a breath, trying to formulate a sentence, and he looked back down into her hurt face, noticing the moisture gathering along her lower lids. She blinked rapidly, and he softened. “I’m going to go so you can finish your work without me bothering you. I’ll text you when I’m done, okay?”

  She nodded, and he brushed a swift kiss on her lips before heading to the bedroom to change into his workout clothes. When he came back out, her head was once again bent over the documents she worked on. He stared at her for a long moment before grabbing his phone to see if Chris or Matt were available to meet him at the gym where they liked to work out. Maybe they could help him figure this shit out.

  Lance came back from working out after their conversation seeming less angry. But Abby still felt awful, frustrated with herself for being unable to accept Lance taking care of her and guilt over her lie eating at her constantly. He stopped asking about her mom, though, which made it easier to pretend that everything was fine.

  The next week was Spring Break, and Abby spent it mostly bored. She had a few extra translation jobs that she’d picked up, but they only took a few hours. Megan was gone with Chris to visit his family in Port Orchard, and Lance had to work.

  She was so bored that she visited her mom on Wednesday. She hadn’t been since she’d come to give Aaron the money weeks ago. And to her dismay, he didn’t appear to be leaving any time soon.

  As usual, her mom was happy to see her, and still seemed to be clueless about Aaron taking all Abby’s money. After exchanging pleasantries, they sat down in the living room, her mom in her usual spot on the end of the sofa. Abby glanced around, surprised her brother hadn't come out yet. "Is Aaron home?" It was almost two in the afternoon. Was he still in bed?

  "Oh, no. He left this morning. He's gone for a while most days. Off making money."

  Abby raised an eyebrow. "He's got a job?"

  "I guess so. He leaves in the mornings and is gone all day. And he has money. He's been paying for the groceries lately."

  That was even more surprising. "Really?" Huh. Maybe Aaron staying with her mom wasn't as bad as she thought. And if he'd gotten a job, then maybe he could move into his own place soon like she'd made him promise to do when she gave him her money. "So it's been good for you? Having him here?"

  Her mom nodded, her pinched expression smoothing into a small smile. "He helps with stuff around the house, fixing the little things that are hard for me to do. I get so tired."

  "Mom, if you need things fixed you can always call me. Lance is happy to help too."

  Her mom waved a hand. "Oh, but you're so busy, and you live all the way in Spokane. I don't want to bother you." It went unspoken that she still wasn't comfortable having Lance in her house, even though he'd mowed her yard every week into late October and helped with other things too. Since Aaron was here, would he take care of their mom's yard now that it was early spring? Soon it would need watering and mowing on a regular basis. If they could at least keep the weeds back to the edges, that would be a big improvement.

  Abby didn't agree or disagree, not wanting to start a fight or upset her mom. And now that she knew her mom spent more time alone than she realized, Abby went back to visit her on Thursday and Friday as well.

  Except on Friday, Aaron was there. Abby froze for a second when she saw him lounging on the couch. He gave her a nod—one of those guy gestures that’s just an upward jerk of the chin. "Hey, Abs. How's it going?"

  She clenched her fists at her sides at his use of her nickname but didn't call him on it. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he got under her skin. "Hey, Aaron. I hear you got a job?"

  He scratched the blond beard on his chin and looked away. "Uh, yeah."

  Hmm. That wasn't the most positive thing he could've said. "Well, thanks for helping mom out with the groceries and stuff."

  All she got in response was a shrug, his attention focused on the TV again. He turned up the volume a couple of notches, sending a clear signal that he didn’t want to talk. Abby rolled her eyes at his asshole behavior and turned to chat with her mom in the kitchen.

  After spending a couple of hours talking to her mom, Abby stood to go. “I’ll try to come visit during the day again soon. The semester always gets busiest after Spring Break, so I don’t know how much time I’ll have, especially taking on the extra translation projects. But I’ll do my best.”

  Her mom gave her her usual wan smile and a gentle hug that was more placing her arms around Abby’s shoulders than anything. “Okay. I always love it when you visit. See you soon.”

  Abby patted her mom’s back once before she broke off the hug and moved toward the door. Aaron stood, his hands in his pockets, following behind her. She gave him a look, trying to determine what he was up to, but he just gave her a bland expression in response. He obviously wanted something from her, so, with a sigh, she led the way out the front door.

  Once outside, she stood next to her car, arms crossed, waiting to hear what he had to say. Past experience told her it wouldn’t be good.

  He stood in front of her, his hands still in his pockets, his eyes taking in her posture, that calculating gleam she was all too familiar with in place.

  When he didn’t say anything, she decided to give in and break the silence first. The sooner he spit out whatever he wanted, the sooner she could go home. “What do you want, Aaron?” She didn’t bother to keep the irritation out of her voice.

  That smirk that she always wanted to slap off his face appeared. “Who says I don’t just wanna walk you to your car?”

  “When has that ever been the case with you?”

  “Aw, come on, Abs. I took care of you a lot when we were kids.”

  She huffed out a laugh, though she didn’t find this conversation all that amusing. “Yeah. That was a long time ago. Lately it seems like the opposite is true.” She arched an eyebrow at him.

  He had the grace to look abashed, dropping his gaze to the ground and running a hand over his jaw. “Yeah, about that …”

  She waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. Why was every conversation with him like pulling teeth? “About what? Just spit it out, Aaron. I don’t have time for this.”

  That smirk again. “I thought you’d been coming around this week because you didn’t have anything better to do.”

  “As exciting as these conversations with you always are, I’d like to go home, so if you have something to say, say it already.”

  His face grew serious, his eyes still calculating. “So, about that money you gave me …”

  “You used it to pay those guys off, right? That’s what it was for. And then you were going to get a job. Mom said you’ve been paying for things, so that means you got a job, right?”

  He stared at her, and she dreaded his answer at the same time she needed to hear it. “Right, Aaron?”

  Looking away at the trees behind her, he gave a tiny shake of his head.

  Cold dread filled her. “Where have you been going during the day?”

  He shrugged, a careless gesture that conveyed nothing and everything all at once.

  “Aaron? Where have you been going?” She used her bes
t classroom voice, putting every ounce of strength behind her words to try to force him to answer.

  “I used part of the money you gave me to buy some time, then I used the rest to try to make more money. I was on a winning streak for the last few weeks, and things were going good. But yesterday and the day before didn’t go so well. I borrowed some money again, and lost it all. I need more.”

  “No.”

  “Abby, come on—“

  “No!” She didn’t care that she was shouting, that their mom might hear their argument through the flimsy walls of her manufactured home. “You said that you needed the money to pay off your gambling debt. You said you’d get a job or leave town once you did that.”

  “Abby, I—“

  “No! No, Aaron. You promised me. I told you that was it. I emptied my savings. I gave you all I had. I don’t have any more.”

  He shifted his stance, putting on his best pleading puppy dog face. “But you’ve been taking on those extra translation jobs. That has to pay pretty well. And your boyfriend’s got extra cash just lying around. Enough to pay for you to fly to Texas and change your tickets on a whim. Enough to just hand me a wad of bills from his wallet like it’s nothing. Ask him.”

  Abby stood shaking her head throughout his little speech, disbelief warring with the realization that she’d been waiting for this since he’d taken her money and stayed. Some part of her knew that he’d ask for more. He couldn’t help himself.

  “You need help.”

  He nodded, looking pleased, like she finally understood him. “Yeah, that’s what I’ve been saying. I need—“