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Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah, they’re also crazy overprotective, but it is what it is. I’m not going home. I’m staying here.”
“Good. Any word on the charges?”
“Actually, I spoke to my lawyer today, and he says he doesn’t think much will happen since Taco has lawyered up with the best and it’s his first offense. They’re gonna try to get him to do jail time, but they don’t think they’ll win. Gotta love our justice system. Money buys all.” That hurts my soul. Angie deserves justice. “I may end up leaving.”
I bring in my brows, confused. “I thought you said you were staying here?”
“Yeah, I don’t know. A spot opened up in the program I wanted in South Carolina. I’m thinking of transferring. I know it’s all still fresh and I may feel differently later, but I think I need to get away.”
I nod thoughtfully. “I get that. I came home when my fiancée turned out to be a lesbian. I hated that everything reminded me of her, that she didn’t want me.” As the words leave my lips, my stomach drops. All this could happen with Ally. It was tough to lose Jasmine, but losing Ally…that’s inconceivable. Again, the unknown—it’s a huge bitch. “A new start has been great for me.”
She smiles. “Thanks. I needed that.” I go to squeeze her arm, but she flinches quickly, and I stop midway. “Sorry, I’m—”
“No, please, don’t apologize,” I insist, flashing her a wide grin, and it doesn’t hurt my feelings. This situation isn’t something she can get over quickly. It’s gonna take some time, a whole lot of therapy, and probably a fresh start. I’d hate to see her leave, and I know Lucy and Benji will have a fit, but she’s gotta heal. She can’t do that in the place that reminds her of that asshole.
“The patch does wonders for your sex appeal,” she jokes then, and I scoff.
“Right? I’m about to pull so many girls.”
She snorts. “Please, there is only one girl you want.”
I’m so confused. “Huh?”
“Ally.”
Am I the only one who has been ignoring the idea of Ally and me together? I know I think about it and maybe fantasize, but holy shit, everyone else treats it like a done deal.
Why can’t I get on that level?
“Actually, do you happen to know where she is?”
She quirks her lips. “The gym. She came in pissy and needing to hit some balls.”
I grimace. “I am the reason she is pissy. And thanks, I’ll be protecting my balls.” She snorts, and I love the light in her eyes. “Thanks, Angie. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Will do. Good luck.”
I nod. “Thank you. I think I may need it.”
I head out, feeling good about Angie and me. I’m glad I didn’t do anything with her. She’s a great girl and she’s going to make someone really happy, but it isn’t me. It would have been a mistake, especially with how she suspected something between Ally and me.
What if she is right? What if Ally has always had my heart and I never knew? Jesus, I really need to speak to her. I need to know what the hell she is thinking, and maybe then things will make sense for me.
I make my way to the sports complex, cursing myself for not bringing a jacket. I’m freezing my balls off, which really doesn’t matter if Ally is as upset as I suspect she’ll be. It’s probably good my balls are numb, won’t hurt when she serves with them. I walk into the building, and I can hear the smack of a ball and then the sound of it bouncing on the gym floor. I head for the side door, surprised no one is around. When I was here the other day, everyone was here, working out, and it was difficult for me to work.
I reach for the door to the gym itself and pull it open. When I step inside, Ally is bouncing the ball on the floor. It’s like déjà vu. We’ve been here, and maybe I should have read into her actions earlier. Ally didn’t call me because she was mad that I didn’t want her going out with Taco; she didn’t call because she was jealous of Angie. She looks over at me, and she narrows her eyes. Man, there is fire in those green depths. I lick my lips as I head onto the court. She’s on the other side of the net, and when she serves, I pause as the ball whooshes by my head.
“What the hell? As much as I love being a pirate, I don’t want to wear two eye patches.”
She reaches for another ball. “What do you want, fuckboy?”
I throw up my hands. “Well, that’s rude.”
“Oh, is it?” she asks, serving the ball once more, almost hitting me. “If the shoe fits, buddy.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
She slams her fist into the ball, glaring at me. “I put myself out there, and what do you do? Ghost me. How do you think that makes me feel?”
