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Deep down, I should have realized she wouldn’t stick around. Obviously, she’d felt pressured into agreeing to meet up with me. I can’t blame her for being a no-show.
I fucked up.
A couple of players slap me on the shoulder before taking off. There’s some chatter about a party to celebrate our win.
Want to guess whose ass won’t be in attendance tonight?
Yup. That’s right…me. I plan on drowning my sorrows in a couple bottles of beer.
Once they disappear, I fight my way free of the disappointment before taking a step toward the exit. As I do, the crowd shifts and I catch sight of the beautiful girl leaning against the white cinderblock wall with the flowers I’d picked out earlier this morning clutched in her hand. My steps falter as our gazes collide.
Unsure what to do, I lift my hand into a tentative wave.
I’ve been with my fair share of females over the years, and no one has ever stirred up these kinds of emotions in me. It’s kind of like I want to throw up and kiss her all at the same time.
It’s unnerving.
When she returns the gesture, I force my feet into movement. It’s only when I’m a few feet away that I stop and shove my hands into the pockets of my joggers in order to resist the urge to reach out and yank her into my arms.
“Hi.” I force the word through stiff lips as my heart slams against my ribcage. If I’m not careful, it’ll break free of its confines before falling to the floor and flopping around pathetically.
Straightening, she tucks an errant lock of caramel-colored hair behind her ear. “Thanks for the flowers. They’re beautiful.”
“No problem.”
An awkward silence descends as I shift my weight. The distance between us feels palpable. Everything swirling through my head since she discovered the truth and forced me from her life sits perched on the tip of my tongue.
“I’m sorry about the lies.” Before she can respond, I hurry on, knowing this might be the only chance I get to clear the air. “There were so many times I could have come clean and told you the truth, and I didn’t. It was never my intention to hurt or deceive you. That night, when you got the first call, it was from Andrew. He’d been drunk and grabbed my phone when I wasn’t looking because you’d blocked his number. When I realized what he was doing, I took it back and hung up.”
The memory flickers in her eyes.
“When you texted, asking who it was, I told you it was a wrong number. I assumed it would end there, but then we started messaging back and forth. I thought by the next morning, it would be forgotten, but I couldn’t let it go. The more we texted and then talked, the more ensnared in the lie I became, and the harder it was to find a way out. And then at the coffee shop—”
“You showed up.” Her brow furrows.
“I was planning to tell you then, but…” My voice trails off.
“I’d thought it was someone else,” she says.
Everything inside me deflates. “Yeah.”
When she opens her mouth, I cut her off, “But that’s not an excuse. I should have told you the truth.”
She releases a steady breath. When she doesn’t immediately tell me to go to hell, I inch closer, craving her nearness. It’s been more than a week since she forced me from her life, and I’ve missed her more than I thought possible. We might not have been together long, but it feels like we opened up, got close.
What I don’t know is if she feels the same way.
Or anything, where I’m concerned.
“I understand that what I did can’t be swept under the rug, but is there any chance you can forgive me? Can we go back to the beginning and have a fresh start? Only this time, it wouldn’t be Chris you’d be getting to know. It would be Crosby.” I move closer. “Just Crosby.”
She nibbles her lower lip before breaking eye contact and staring down at the bouquet.
“I don’t know.” She peeks up at me from beneath a thick fringe of lashes. “How can I trust you after what you did?”
Even though her response cuts me to the bone, I nod, accepting responsibility for my mistakes. If I was looking for an answer, I’m pretty sure I have it. I can’t blame her for feeling that way. She’s right, I did all those things.
“If I could go back and do everything differently, I would. I hope you realize that.”
“I appreciate the sentiment.”
When she says nothing further, the flicker of hope inside me is snuffed out and I awkwardly hitch a thumb over my shoulder. “I should probably get moving.”
“Okay.”
It blows to walk away, but there’s nothing else for me to say.
