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Home. I had no idea where that was these days. I hadn't belonged anywhere—until King. Was she what turned Stonebriar into home? There was a chance I would never know. She took that knowledge with her when she ran. My chest constricts, and I curl my fingers around the armrest of my seat.
Goddamn her. Why did it have to be her?
I can't wait to get back to practice in less than fourteen days. My hand is healed, and I got the official okay last week. The toned-down version of my workouts was getting on my nerves. I wasn't burned out when Coach blew the whistle, which led to restlessness and resulted in self-medicating myself to sleep. All of this would change when I got back, though. I promised myself I'd concentrate on football, even if I wasn't going to start any more this season. I lost that when I punched a hole in the wall next to Grizz's office.
New year, fresh start, and all that shit.
Mom instantly tearedup when she opened the door, and the sense of peace that spread through my coiled muscles told me that I had made the right decision. I would not go another two years before coming back.
Dad and I spent Christmas Day lounging on the couch while my mother fussed over us. I could see that he enjoyed the special treatment as well. I don't think he had to get up once, which only happens when he's deathly ill. My mom is a very outspoken, "you have two feet, get your own stuff" kinda woman—and we love her for it.
I didn't venture out for the first few days. As much as I enjoyed being here with my family, it still felt weird to be back. Lying on my old bed brought back memories I'd rather forget—too much unfinished history.
The unknown of where Rhys and Lilly were spending the holidays also kept me on edge. Were they in town or on the West Coast? I constantly expected Rhys to walk out of my bathroom like old times—when he lived with me. I would hold my breath and then…nothing. I was alone. What irritated me even more was when the realization hit. The space behind my rib cage would feel hollow, like I was missing something. Someone.
A textfrom Den eventually answers the question to the McGuires' whereabouts.
BK: Hi.
Clue number one: no insult or faux sexual innuendo.
Me: What's up?
BK: I saw Lilly last night.
My heart stutters, but I refuse to acknowledge it. Instead, I squash the tingly sensation the same way King killed our future. No matter how short a time we had together, there was no doubt in my mind that we would've had one—if she wasn't the person she turned out to be.
Me: Cool.
BK: ?
Me: What do u want me to say?
BK: I may have told them that you're here. They want to see you.
I stare at the screen.
Maybe it's time to forgive them, King's voice reverberates in my head, and I squeeze my eyes shut. My chest feels tight while my body heat rises to the point of sweat pooling in my palms. Why does it have to be her that gets through to me? D has tried to talk me into moving past my anger and resentment for years, yet the girl I should despise more than Lilly and Rhys combined is the one that makes me consider it.
Why can't I hate her for who she is? She lied to me.
Me: K
The reply is instant.
BK: K?
The sensation of a thousand insects crawling up my stomach walls increases.
Me: U heard me.
Me: Well, not heard. U know what I mean.
The bubble pops up and disappears several times, and the little clock in the top corner shows that it takes her three minutes to form her response.
BK: Do you want to meet at Magnolia's?
Me: Now?
