“It’s my agent. I’ve got a few things I need to deal with.” I silence my phone and toss it onto the small table next to my beer. “They can all wait until morning, though.”
The waves crash against the boat, and for a few minutes, it’s all we listen to.
“Does it ever bother you?” she asks.
“What? My phone? Yeah. I swear I put it on silent all the time and it still-”
“No,” she laughs lightly, and just hearing it eases my chest a little. “I meant the attention?”
“Oh.” My brows raise as I consider it for a second. I stare up at the stars and rest my hands on my chest. “It bothers the hell out of me.”
It's the truth, which is all Honey deserves.
“Because of the pressure?”
“No.” I laugh, staring down at my hands now. “Because it cost me the one thing I’ve always wanted... and I’d give all of it back just to have her again.”
Silence.
Well, shit.
I did it again, didn't I?
I run a hand through my hair, knowing that’s something I should’ve kept to myself. Drew’s right. Self-restraint is fucking hard when she’s around.
She huffs out a quiet breath, clearly no longer buying my declarations.
“But you still want to play football, right?” she asks quietly.
“Well, yeah.” I pick up the cardboard coaster that says 'Drink up. You can’t get lost if you’re already at sea.' and fiddle with it. “It’s the one thing I know how to do well. It keeps me going and it takes care of my family. I don’t know what I’d do without it.”
“That’s what I thought,” she says. Her voice doesn’t break or sound sad, though. Probably because she accepted this as my reality a long time ago. I’m just taking a few more seconds to catch up.
“Doesn’t change the fact that I hate what it did to you. Tous,” I emphasize.
“I do, too, but knowing that doesn’t change my feelings.”
She’s getting defensive now, and I get it. Everyone is pushing her for an answer she doesn't have yet.
“I didn’t say that to make you feel bad.” I tip my head back, annoyed that nothing feels like it comes out right when I talk to her these days. “I’m just done pretending the trade-off wasn’t real.”
“I never pretended it wasn’t,” she says quietly. “It just didn’t change anything.”
I shake my head, more at myself than her. “Yeah, I’m starting to realize that,” I mutter.
My fingers tap against the arm of the chair.
“I just wish I’d figured it out before it cost me you.”
“I saw you on the pool deck,” she says, not-so-subtly changing the subject, “with those two girls the other day.”
“You did? So much for trying to be incognito.”
“Kind of hard to do when you’re wearing bright yellow bee shorts.”
I laugh quietly. “Good point.”
“It looked like you handled it well.”
