Beverly, her mom, kissed me on the cheek, and Paul patted me on the shoulder before they grabbed their bowl of popcorn and walked hand in hand up the stairs, leaving me alone with their daughter. Her parents had always liked me, trusted me since the first time I’d rung their doorbell and asked if their little girl could come outside and play Bad Guy and Batman with me. Only six years old, I never would have guessed that many moons later, I’d end up falling for the blonde girl with uneven pigtails, bright red cheeks, and sparkly dresses.
She sat still as a statue on the couch, eyes focused straight ahead to the TV, as I eased down beside her, my thigh grazing hers.
“Missed you,” I said, my voice low, subdued, elbows pinned to my thighs, hands in a steeple.
She offered me some of her popcorn, eyes still glued to the scene on the large TV screen, clearly willing her eyes not to take one glance over at me.
A cloud of awkwardness hovered above us, and I desperately wanted to find its kill switch.
“Baby”—I cleared my throat—“I’m really sorry about last night.”
Macy leaned over to the rectangular coffee table, placed the popcorn down, then flicked the TV off with the remote. As she turned around to face me, legs tucked under her yoga-style, remorse filled my chest. I could tell by the puffiness in her eyes she’d been crying—which meant I’d hurt her, the last thing I wanted to do.
“What did you mean when you said you needed to get the fuck away from me?” Her voice wobbled as though a flurry of emotions were stuck in her throat.
Fear sliced my heart in two, afraid my stupid mouth would inflict more damage. “I figured marrying Harper would help me get over the fact that I couldn’t have you.”
Hands planted in her lap, she fidgeted, blinking up to the high-beamed ceiling before snapping her narrow-eyed gaze back down on me. “So you would have married someone else—someone you didn’t love—without at least trying to tell me how you felt?”
“Asking Harper to marry me was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
“What do you want from me, Macy?”
She got to her feet, then stomped over to the kitchen. “You didn’t fight for me.”
“Fight for you?” I scoffed, stalking after her, anger and confusion infused through my veins. “In my defense, I had no fucking clue you had feelings for me. You do realize you were active on dating apps, making it rain ‘oh, he’s just my best friend’ to every freaking guy you dated, right?”
She opened the fridge and before she could snag a bottle of water off the top shelf, I grabbed her elbow, spun her around, and slammed the door shut, pinning the blue-eyed beauty between me and the side-by-side stainless-steel monstrosity.
Breath hitching at my proximity, her eyes fluttered closed when I cupped the side of her face with one hand, planting my other hand on her delicate waist.
“Why would I have fought for a woman I didn’t think I had a shot with? A woman who needs to own that she too could have opened her mouth and told me she was in love with me, instead of dating other guys, seemingly flaunting them in my face every chance she got.”
She yanked my hand away from her face. “I didn’t know how you felt about me and only dated them because I couldn’t have you,” she snapped, before her eyes widened as though realizing her own words proved my point. “Still, I never asked anybody to marry me.”
“But it could have happened. You could have very well ended up with some guy you didn’t love.”
She shook her head and scoffed, mouth quivering as though angry it couldn’t drip out a smart-mouthed retort.
“Look, baby.” I snaked my arms around the small of her back. “We were both assholes for not fessing up, for not coming clean about how we felt. Truth is, if I hadn’t proposed to Harper, the events that followed wouldn’t have taken place. You wouldn’t have gone out drinking with Sage and Chloe, and your digital diary never would have seen the light of day that kickstarted you and me, us, into place.”
She pinned her gaze downward, and I commanded it right back up with the pad of my thumb raising her chin.
Searching her eyes, I said, “But, this has nothing at all to do with Harper or with me not fighting for you, does it?” I laid a soft kiss on her forehead. “You wanna tell me what’s really going on, baby?”
She blinked, a tear trickling down her cheek. I swiped it away, only to watch another fall.
Fuck, I hated seeing her like that. Hated not being able to fix whatever was broken. “Don’t cry, Macy,” I whispered. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”
She swallowed, biting down on her lower lip as her eyes found mine. “I’m afraid when you get drafted, things are gonna change between us—and not in a good way. I’ve been sort of reading articles about couples who were together pre-draft, who inevitably break up post-draft.” Her shoulders fell as she exhaled. “I’m scared that once you get out there, surrounded by fortune and fame, you’ll get caught up in a moneyed lifestyle, parties, easy women, and destroy what we have, including our friendship.” She sobbed. “I guess I’m scared you’re gonna hurt me.”
A knot of emotion clawed at my chest as my brain finally put two and two together. Macy had been acting slightly distant since my return from the Combine. Clueless me had chalked it up as her being overwhelmed with schoolwork, preparing for finals, graduation. Especially since I’d been a little overwhelmed myself, wondering if I’d be invited to attend Draft Day in person. The NFL only chose about thirty players each year to participate in the event live. I’d always been fixed on being chosen after Dad told me it was a once in a lifetime opportunity.
Draft Day was only a mere weeks away. No wonder she’d been a wad of emotion and affliction.
I pulled her into my arms, stroking her hair as she sobbed into my chest. “Never, baby. The only thing that’s gonna change is how much more I plan to spoil you, shower you with everything you want.”
