Happily Ever All-Star: A Secret Baby Romance - Sosie Frost Page 0,257

love? I have to hate myself. If I didn’t…if I let myself be that monster…”

The words didn’t come. Piper reached for me, and I batted her away. No touching. No speaking. No nothing. My heart shredded itself in my chest. Didn’t need it anyway.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like living in a constant state of rage?” I whispered.

Piper exhaled, trembling so near to me. Fear?

No.

She listened. Eagerly. Desperately.

“I battle it every damn day,” I said. “I work hard to contain that hate. I wake up angry. I fall asleep angry. I do my job angry. And usually I can control it.”

“Usually?”

“Lately, it’s been staying in my head. Festering. Twisting me up. Do you understand? I can’t get rid of this rage. It’s just…growing.”

Piper didn’t run.

Why didn’t she run?

Why did she stay and listen and act as if she cared?

“You have no idea how hard it is. Every minute of every day is a fight with myself, denying the dark and terrible parts of me. You asked why I work-out here? Alone? It’s not about the solitude. This is the only place where I can push myself to the breaking point every day.”

“Is it a punishment?”

“No. It’s the only way I can exhaust myself. I pour everything, every last ounce of strength, into my work-out, praying it’s enough to make me so tired I can’t give a fuck about anything.”

“Cole—”

She still didn’t understand. How the hell was I supposed to describe how broken I was to someone so perfect?

“I live every day in fear.” It didn’t relieve me to admit it. Just made the shame worse. “I’m bigger than everyone. I’m stronger. I’m the goddamned beast. I can’t even play this game anymore without breaking a man’s back. I’m too dangerous. I can’t…”

I looked away. Walked away. Tried to get away.

Piper didn’t let me.

She held a hand to my chest and a second to my cheek. I fought her, but her touch warmed through me. Gentle. Fucking gentle.

“Stop punishing yourself,” she said. “You’ve no reason to be afraid.”

“Of course I do. You scare me, beautiful.”

Piper stilled, her voice low. “Have you ever thought about hurting me?”

I took her hand, answering immediately, fervently. “No.”

“Have you ever thought about hurting Rosie?”

The idea physically sickened me. I pushed her away, trying to forget the baby’s smile and her laugh and how she shared her banana with me every morning.

“God, no.”

“Then why are you so afraid? Why won’t you let me trust you?” Piper moved too close, too soft.

She wanted to be kissed. And I wanted to kiss her too. If I could have, I might have done more. I’d caress her, worship her, make love to her. I imagined giving her every pleasure a woman like her deserved.

I wanted to feel her against me at night.

I wanted to wake up next to her in the morning.

But it wouldn’t happen. Couldn’t.

I stepped away.

“I won’t risk hurting you,” I said.

Her words struck me—honest and mournful. “But what will you risk if you walk away?”

Piper wasn’t going to fight me. Rose cried over the baby monitor, and she left me with the echo of her gentle warning.

Alone.

In silence.

I once thought that I loved solitude. I was wrong.

I loathed it. The quiet was a curse, and my own fear a binding that chained me to the monster I hated the most. I had to escape it, but I didn’t know how.

Only one person might have helped me…

But I wasn’t risking her to save myself.

16

Cole

The game ended, and a microphone immediately was jammed into my face.

I didn’t have enough time to wipe the blood off my nose, brow, cheek, chin, hair. It mixed with sweat and dripped off me, but the media ate that shit up.

“Cole, you played with a broken nose for two quarters!” The reporter from Sports Nation was a sharp-dressed peacock posturing for the camera. He didn’t lean too close—couldn’t get blood on his designer suit. “Where did you find the strength to keep fighting?”

We had a lot of canned responses memorized. Maybe I dug deep. Maybe the game was do or die.

Maybe I couldn’t afford a bad game after Coach Scott threatened to cut me if I even spoke the name Tim Morgan.

Instead, I told the reporter the truth. It was the first time I ever looked into the camera during an interview, on or off the field.

“I had a little girl counting on me,” I said. “I told her I’d win, and I couldn’t break that promise.”

The reporter might have keeled over.