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"I want to know. I care—"
"Even your own mother said that you aren't thinking straight right now. That nothing's more important to you than football."
I raised my hands in exasperation. "My mother loves you. And you already know there's nothing more important to me than football."
She took another step back and nodded. "You're right. I do." It was as though an iceberg had erupted between us, shooting up from the floor.
Chase Layne was royally fucking this up.
She grabbed her suitcase and headed toward the door. "I'm sorry about my sister. She wants to talk to me. I'll see what I can do to make her come to her senses." I could see the muscles in her throat work as she swallowed. "I know you'll never be able to forgive me for this, but that's nothing in comparison to how I feel about myself. So I'm going now."
Oh, fuck no. This was spiraling out of control.
I stepped in front of her. I felt terrible about Avery's mother, but I also felt desperate. And angry. "So you're running off to your boyfriend's house—your real boyfriend's house—to lick your wounds?" I watched her face as her chin wobbled a little, her resolve cracking. "I don't believe you. That's fucking bullshit."
Avery gripped her suitcase. "We hadn't figured out an exit for me, but this seems like a good time. It's probably better for me to get out before the news breaks. Maybe you can say you didn't know the truth." She started toward the door again.
"Not so fast. Your real boyfriend can wait. Right now you have some explaining to do to your fake one."
She straightened herself. "You can come up with a story to protect yourself. Tell them Eric hired me without your knowledge. Tell them you had no idea I was an escort. But if I'm here, I won't be able to lie. They'll be able to see the truth."
I took another step toward her. "Just like I see the truth right now? You're lying, babe. There's no one else but me."
"I have to go." She tried to walk out again and I moved to block her. "What I don't have to do is see your life ruined and know that I'm responsible for it."
"So which one is it?" I asked, my eyes searching her face. "Are you leaving to go to your real boyfriend's house? Or are you leaving because you think you're going to protect me?"
"I'm going to my real boyfriend's house." The words sounded dead coming from her lips.
"I don't think so." We looked at each other for a beat. "Tell me you don't love me."
She looked as though she was going to start crying again. "I care about you. You've been very kind to me since I've been here. It's been an honor getting to know you."
"Babe. Look at me." I took a step closer. "Tell me you don't love me."
Avery looked at me. "I don't love you," she said. Then she walked around me and out the door.
Chapter Twenty-One
AVERY
With the money remaining in my wallet, I'd bought five boxes of Kleenex.
And five bottles of wine.
I was in bed, empty bottles on my nightstand and a wad of crumpled tissues spread out all around me. I felt like Lila.
Fucking Lila.
I laughed, and then I started crying again. Laughing reminded me of Chase.
Tell me you don't love me. I'd been so cruel. The look on his face when I'd walked out the door was going to haunt me forever.
But he'd told me the truth: football was the most important thing to him. And because I loved him, I had to walk away. He couldn't have his football and eat it, too. Or whatever.
I blew my nose loudly.
I'd known this was going to end badly; I just hadn't known it was going to end this badly.
