Drew.
Heat raced up Wyatt’s spine and he clutched the water bottle in one fist, feeling the plastic give underneath his strength.
Drew zeroed in on Wyatt and lumbered across the kitchen, a grim smile on his face. “Thought I might run into you here.”
How had he known about the party? Wyatt set his water bottle on the counter and folded his arms, refusing to let his former quarterback intimidate him. “What are you doing here?”
“Schroeder’s an old friend.”
Wyatt wasn’t surprised. The two were practically carbon copies of each other.
Drew took a step closer. Behind him, Wyatt felt Tyrone step closer as well.
“I came here to warn you to stay away from Tamera,” Drew said. His tone was menacing, his eyes narrowed into slits.
Her name had the hairs on Wyatt’s neck standing on end. He leaned forward, not caring that Drew had two inches and fifty pounds on him. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but Tamera’s an adult capable of making her own decisions.”
“Not this one.”
Anger flared in Wyatt’s chest and he fought to hold it back. This man had stolen his girlfriend, lied about what happened on the field, and then gotten Wyatt traded to a b-list team. “Don’t tell me how to live me life, man.”
Drew shoved Wyatt in the chest. He stumbled backward, caught off guard by the physical contact. In another moment he was in control again and shot forward. He’d been dreaming about hitting Drew for months, and now he’d finally get the chance.
Tyrone jumped between them, holding his arms out to keep them apart. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Let’s all take about five giant steps back and cool off a bit.”
Wyatt’s chest heaved, but he refused to back down. He glared at Drew, hate flowing through him.
“We don’t want any trouble, Dempsey, okay?” Tyrone said. “We’re just here to have a good time.”
Maybe that worked for Tyrone, but Wyatt was done being pushed around. He stabbed a finger in Drew’s direction. “What lies did you tell her?”
A slow grin spread across Drew’s face. “I didn’t tell her anything that wasn’t true—just spun the story in my favor.”
“She deserves to know the truth.”
“She deserves the best.”
Wyatt laughed. “Fine. Tell her whatever you want. Tamera’s smart enough to see through your crap. She’s way too smart to go for a cretin like you.”
Drew held out his arms, taking a step back. “Looks like she already has, bro. You’ve lost. When are you going to realize that and stop trying to play a game you’re not even second string in?”
Wyatt lunged at Drew, but Tyrone shoved him back.
“Cool off, bro. Don’t give him what he wants,” Tyrone said.
Wyatt shuddered, then nodded and took a step back. “Let’s get out of here.”
Tyrone nodded and they brushed past Drew. It took a lot of effort not to shove him, but Wyatt held back. Barely.
“She’s mine, James,” Drew called after him.
Wyatt froze, but Tyrone rested a heavy arm around his shoulders and propelled him forward. “Not worth it, man.”
Not worth it. Wyatt let out a curse, but let Tyrone lead him from the house. They pushed past teammates and cheerleaders who barely seemed to notice their departure. Schroeder certainly wouldn’t realize they’d left, and besides, they’d stuck around long enough to satisfy him even if he did.
“I hate that guy,” Wyatt said as he dropped heavily into the passenger seat of Tyrone’s Maserati.
“He’s a total tool,” Tyrone agreed as he started the car. “What was that all about, anyway?”
“Drew and I didn’t exactly get along in San Antonio.”
“Yeah, I caught that. What happened?”
Wyatt looked out the window as dark palm trees passed by in a blur. “It’s a long story.” One he needed to tell Tamera, and soon.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
What a weekend. Tamera rolled over in bed with a groan. Had it really only been two days ago when her almost-kiss with Wyatt had been interrupted by the truth-bombs Drew dropped?
On Friday night, Drew’s attempts to distract her had ended with one too many margaritas and fending off Drew’s tipsy advances. He hadn’t done more than make suggestive comments and once almost kiss her, but it had been enough for her to ignore him yesterday over claims she needed to work. It had been a flat-out lie. She hadn’t shown any houses, or even cracked open the lid of her laptop. Instead she’d spent the day watching police procedurals and wondering what Wyatt would think of them.
“How do I always get into these messes?” she asked her ceiling.
With the heat of the moment past, Tamera tried to look at things objectively. She knew Wyatt—maybe not well, but she felt like he’d been genuine during their time together. And the Wyatt she knew wasn’t a vengeful lover bent on total destruction. Maybe Drew had misinterpreted the situation. He was so closely involved—it would be easy to unintentionally exaggerate, given the men’s history together.
She needed to talk to Wyatt. And she would text him today, once she worked up the courage. In the meantime, social media seemed like a great distraction.
Five minutes into scrolling through her feed, she saw a picture of Wyatt and Drew.
“Shut the front door,” Tamera yelled. She sat up in bed, staring at the image. There was no mistaking the two men. Drew’s ponytail hung down his back, his massive arms practically hulking out of his gray T-shirt. Wyatt stood toe-to-toe with Drew, his arms pushing against Drew’s shoulders as though forcing the man to take a step back. Wyatt’s jaw was clenched, his face all hard lines.
Was it an old photo? Tamera quickly scrolled up. She wasn’t friends with whoever had posted the image, but Drew had been tagged. The photo had been captioned with one simple line—Seems like not everyone’s enjoying the party tonight. It had only been posted last night, but where would both Drew and Wyatt have been?
Tamera zoomed in on the photo and squinted. It looked like they stood in a kitchen, but not one she recognized. The lighting was poor, and she could just make out dark granite countertops and slate gray shaker cabinets. It would almost make sense if they’re ran into each other at a restaurant. But someone’s house?
Drew had texted last night, asking Tamera to go with him to a party. She’d insisted she had a headache and begged off. At the time, she hadn’t found it odd that Drew had found a party to attend. He was a social guy who knew a lot of people. But it must’ve been a party thrown by someone in the football world for Wyatt to also be there. Maybe Drew was a party animal, but Wyatt was more the quiet evening at home time. And if it had been a football party, Drew would’ve at least suspected Wyatt might attend. But then why would Drew invite Tamera to the party? It didn’t make sense.
She scrolled through the comments, her stomach doing cartwheels as she read each one. The photo was public, which meant the comments were already closing in on a thousand. Speculations ran rampant over what the argument had been about, and whether or not it factored into Wyatt’s trade to L.A. If Drew was telling the truth, it most definitely had.
Her phone buzzed and she opened it to find a text from Wyatt. Can we get together sometime soon? I’d love to talk.
She ran her thumb over the edge of her phone, biting her bottom lip. Drew had told her to stay away. After his story, she understood why he was making the suggestion. But part of her couldn’t quite believe that Wyatt would behave that way.
Drew told me a lot of things, Tamera typed back slowly.
I’m sure he did. But there are two sides to every story. Don’t I get a chance to tell you mine?
She flopped back against her pillows, mind whirling as her emotions battled for dominance. You can come over tonight, she finally texted back.
Eight o’clock? I’ve got practice until then.
Okay.
She tapped her phone against one leg, then got out of bed with a groan. Eight o’clock was a long ways away, and s
he had house showings lined up for clients and lines to rehearse. Time to forget about Wyatt.
Yeah, right. Like that was even a possibility.
The day dragged by. Tamera showed small homes desperately in need of face lifts to clients on a shoestring budget all morning. That afternoon, she tried to avoid thinking about Wyatt while she prepared for her audition tomorrow. Then, because she was out of groceries, she headed to the store for some quick shopping.
That proved to be a bad idea. She got stuck in a line manned by a cashier-in-training. Her plan to make up time by speed home was dashed by an accident that had traffic slowed to a crawl. By the time she pulled into the parking lot, Wyatt’s truck was already in a visitor spot.
She loaded down her arms with bags of groceries and raced up the steps. She could see Wyatt’s large figure from down the hallway and her palms grew sweaty, making the plastic bags slip in her hands.
“Sorry,” she wheezed, out of breath. “Traffic.”
He gave her a tentative smile that seemed to ask “are we okay?”
She wasn’t sure. But she desperately wanted him to give an explanation that made Drew’s claims seem like an overreaction. And that freaked her out.
“Here, let me help you.” Wyatt reached for her bags, his warm hands brushing against hers and sending shock waves up her arms.
“Thanks.” She fumbled for her keys, head swimming with conflicting emotions.
Wyatt set the bags on her kitchen counter, lifting the heavy sacks that had her out of breath like they weighed nothing. She folded her arms, her heart doing funny things at the sight of him in her kitchen. Last time he’d been here, they’d held each other close while entire books were written in the silence between them.
“How about I pull stuff out of the bags and you put it away?” Wyatt asked. “I’m not sure where things go, and I know from Natalie not to mess with a woman’s kitchen.”
Against Tamera’s will, a smile twitched at her lips. She would love to meet the sister he spoke so fondly of. “You don’t have to help.”
“I know, but I want to.”
“Okay then. Thanks.”
She took her place beside him, the tension in the room weighing on her like a physical presence. Neither of them spoke as Wyatt pulled containers out of bags and Tamera placed things in the pantry or fridge. He worked efficiently, grouping like items together like he’d done this a dozen times before.
While on Eye in the Sky, contestants had been responsible for the day-to-day stuff. The show provided food, but it was up to the house guests to prepare meals, wash dishes, and clean the residence. She couldn’t remember Drew pitching in even once. Just a few days ago, in fact, Drew had sat at the counter and watched while she clean up the remnants of dinner with Wyatt before they went out for the night. Caleb had never been an especially helpful boyfriend, either, often teasing her about “women’s work” as an excuse for not doing whatever small task she’d asked of him. But Wyatt was working alongside her, helping. A guy who did that couldn’t be the kind of guy Drew had painted.
Tamera placed the last can on the pantry shelf, then took her time wadding up the plastic bags and stowing them in the recycle bin underneath the kitchen sink. She wasn’t sure how to broach this conversation, or what to say. Falling for Wyatt had never been part of the plan. She didn’t know who or what to believe. Her track record wasn’t exactly stellar when it came to trusting men.
Wyatt leaned against the counter and folded his arms, his brown eyes gazing at her steadily. She swallowed hard. Those eyes were so full of compassion and worry. Already she could feel herself being sucked in again.
“Are we going to talk about it?” he asked quietly.
Tamera lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Are we?”
“I think we should.” He looked away, then cleared his throat as though fighting back emotion. “I want you to know the truth.”
His voice was a soft caress and she barely held back a shiver. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms and pushed past Wyatt. “We might as well sit down so we’re comfortable.” She had a feeling this might take a while.
Tamera nestled into one corner of the couch and expelled a breath when Wyatt took the chair across from her instead of the opposite end of the couch. His presence clouded her judgment and right now she needed a clear head. She tucked her feet underneath her and hugged a pillow to her chest, overcome by deja vu. Hadn’t she just done this with Drew a couple of days ago? She suddenly felt very unsure and self-conscious.
Wyatt’s muscled body dwarfed her gray armchair, but somehow he still managed to look lost and insecure. He rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together, looking up at her from beneath hooded lids. “I guess Drew told you about what happened in San Antonio.”
Tamera gave a small nod, playing with the edge of the pillow. She was still struggling to process that conversation.
“What did he say?”
So much, and separating fact from fiction was proving almost impossible. If she told him what Drew had said, Wyatt might alter his narrative to tell the story he wanted her to believe instead of the one that was true. She desperately wanted the truth. And she wanted it to paint Wyatt in a positive light.
“I’d like to hear your side of the story first,” Tamera said.
Wyatt gave a short nod. “That’s fair. I guess it all started with my first day on the Vigilantes, since that’s where Drew and I met. We didn’t really interact much in San Antonio—not initially, at least.”
She kept her face impassive. At least his story was matching Drew’s so far.
“We worked together in practice, but that was pretty much the only time we talked to each other.”
“So you didn’t get along from the beginning?”
“No, it wasn’t that we didn’t get along.” Wyatt shifted in the chair, and her eyes followed his movements. “We just didn’t talk. Our relationship wasn’t good or bad, because it didn’t exist. We were coworkers who nodded to each other in the locker room and worked together on the field, but that was it. Drew had been on the team a season longer than me and already had a bit of a reputation. I figured the wisest course of action was to steer clear of him as much as possible.”
“What kind of reputation?” Tamera cut in.
Wyatt shrugged. “Just that he wasn’t someone you wanted to cross.”
Diary room interviews and things she’d seen on Eye in the Sky pushed forward in a surge of memories, all of them clamoring for attention. Drew had presented a congenial face to the house guests, flirting with the women and palling around with the guys, all while being ruthless behind closed doors.
It was a game, she reminded herself. Just because he’d played a cutthroat game on the show didn’t mean that was who he really was.
How well did she really know Drew? They’d texted since leaving the house and seen each other a few times, mostly for interviews. But was that the same thing as knowing someone?
“I tried to stay out of his way as much as possible, because I wasn’t interested in trouble,” Wyatt continued. “I finally had my dream, you know? I’ve wanted to play for the Vigilantes since I was six years old. I used to watch their games with my dad and we’d talk about the day when I’d finally be a part of the team. They were so proud when I was picked in the draft.”
His words did funny things to Tamera’s emotions and she swallowed hard. Now was not the time to get all teary-eyed at the thought of Wyatt as a little boy with big ambitions and dreams.
“Then I met Becky.”
“You’re girlfriend?” Tamera clarified.
“Ex-girlfriend. But yeah.” Wyatt blew out a deep breath. “Looking back, I can see that there were red flags from the beginning. But I was so enamored. Becky was beautiful and funny—the type of girl all the guys were jealous of. She was the prom queen and head cheerleader all rolled into one. I couldn’t believe she was paying attention to me.”
“I can believe it,” Tamera said softly.
Wyatt’s lips turned up in the barest hint of a smile. “Well, it was too good to be true. We’d been dating about six months when I found her in the locker room with Drew. The two of them were attached to each other like window clings or something.”
Again, that was pretty much the same story that Drew had told her. Tamera’s hands tightened around the throw pillow. Maybe neither Drew or Wyatt were wrong. Maybe they just had different perspectives on the same crummy situation.
“I was completely stunned to find them together.”
“You didn’t suspect she was cheating?” Tamera asked quietly.
Wyatt shook his head. “No. I was totally blindsided. When I found them, Becky started crying and said she had made a mistake. But Drew just stood there, smirking. He said if I wasn’t man enough to keep my woman occupied, then I shouldn’t blame her when she went looking elsewhere.”
Pinpricks of pain stabbed behind Tamera’s eyes, and she put her hands to her temples and began to massage. This part of the story sounded unlike the Drew she knew, and yet at the same time she could totally picture the Drew from Eye in the Sky pulling something like that. Who was the real man? “That’s not quite how Drew told the story.”
Wyatt looked away, running one thumb over the other. “Yeah, well, the truth isn’t very flattering.”
“So what happened after that?”
“I told Becky we were over. She kept crying and insisting I give her another chance, but I was done at that point. That’s when things started getting really tense.”
Tamera pictured the scene, Wyatt and Drew caught in the middle of an overly emotionally female who clearly made bad decisions.
“I knew Drew and Becky were dating, but she kept showing up at my apartment. She was sending me emails, spamming me with texts, leaving me dozens of voice mails … you name it. She kept begging for me to take her back. When I’d ask if she was still with Drew, she’d get hysterical or defensive and refuse to answer the question. I think he knew she was still contacting me and the situation bled over into practice. Drew got really aggressive. He was constantly getting after me for not protecting him well enough, even when I was doing my best. The never ending criticism in front of everyone on the team shot my confidence. Becky’s continuous emotional attacks were getting to me, too. I started having a hard time focusing in practice and Coach took notice. That’s when Drew got hurt.”
Match Me if You Can (No Match for Love Book 7) Page 12