Before I realize what’s happening, Andrea is tearing my phone out of my pocket and opening the text. I don’t need to see it to know who it’s from. I set a specific notification sound for him in case he needed me.
She releases another hysterical laugh. “Nowit makes sense.”
I try to snatch it back, but she darts out of reach, flipping the phone around so I have no choice but to stare at the screen.
A photo.
Cade. Reclined on my bed. Wearing my new FMU football jersey.
And nothing else.
I lunge, ripping the phone from her. My cock is throbbing and my face is onfire.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” she says. Either I’m delusional, or she doesn’t sound mad anymore. There’s a lack of accusation in hertone. An absence of hurt. Her dark eyes study me, ratcheting up my heart rate. “What are your intentions with him?”
I blink at her.
Her hands clench into fists. Apparently, it’s not the response she wants.
“He’s going through something and…” I struggle to find words. “I’m… being supportive.”
“Supportive? Of what exactly?”
My mouth opens. Closes. Opens.
“For fuck’s sake, Seba, is your skull that thick? He wants you. He told me. And he’s never admitted to wanting anyone like that. Ever. Which tells me this isn’t casual for him.” Her snarl returns. “I swear to the God I no longer trust, if you hurt him?—”
“I wouldneverhurt him,” I growl. The insinuation has me rabid.
“Maybe not intentionally, but your track record is shit,” she scoffs.
The truth slices like serrated blades. I wince. “I never meant to hurt you, believe me.”
She sniffs, looking away. “Sure.”
“Sweetheart,” I plead, my hands hovering, desperate to hold her but unsure how she’d react. “I promise, I’ve wanted to be with you since the day I saw you sitting in the window. Istillwant to be with you.”
A tear tracks down her cheek. “But… not in that way.”
Shit. I grasp her by the arms. “No, no, no, I do.” I shake out a nervous laugh. “I really,reallydo. Fuck, you’re breathtaking, Andrea.” Her shimmering eyes peer up at me. Thorns scrape my throat. My gaze slides to her bare shoulder. “Even if…” My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. I glance at the glass doors. “Even if I did want him like…that…I can’t be with him. Not really. Not the way you can.”
“So what?” Her voice breaks. “You just… let us both go then?”
It’s impossible to look at her right now. “You deserve so much better than me. And so does he.”
She’s nodding back tears. “Yeah, well, it’s not up to you what either of us deserves.”
Fuck, I’m being torn in two.
Suddenly, a guy in a navy suit stumbles through the doors we exited, murmuring into his phone. He glances at us before hurrying in the opposite direction.
“We should get back,” I sigh, burying my hands in my pockets. If I don’t, I’ll do something astronomically stupid like reach for her.
Andrea dabs a knuckle under her lashes. “Go then.”
Leaving before we’ve resolved anything feels wrong. But the intrusive thought of Pastor Sinclair bursting out here like that guy just did and finding his daughter crying because of me wins. So I turn and numbly retreat the way we came.
“You don’t have to choose.”
