Warning Track (Callahan Family #1) - Carrie Aarons Page 0,69

faced the media at a postgame conference, or even be inside the stadium today. Instead, I’ve spent the day with the TV off, my phone thrown under a pillow on my couch, and stress-baking my butt off.

Hayes finds me elbow deep in brownie batter, even though various containers of muffins, cookies, and cupcakes already line my kitchen counters.

“Are you preparing for a bake sale?” he quips, but I read the sympathy in his tone.

I keep stirring, ignoring him. I told him not to come. In fact, it’s the first time we’ve been alone in each other’s presence in a week and a half. After Walker found out about us, I couldn’t bring myself to sneak around. It feels like the entire relationship we built is a lie, and I can’t get past the mental block consuming my mind.

Not only will Walker not talk to me, he’s refused every attempt I’ve made, but I’m not sure where to put Hayes now. I love him … so much that I almost jeopardized everything in my life. I lied and snuck around, kept things from the people who have been there for me most. Walker was right; I’m the spitting image of my father.

“You didn’t have to come over,” I grumble, not taking my eyes off of the goopy brown liquid in the bowl.

The next time Hayes speaks, his warm breath is fluttering over the back of my neck. “You’ve been shrugging me off for a week. I’m not letting you do it anymore. Especially today.”

It shouldn’t surprise me that he knows the significance of today’s date, but then again, you could turn on any news channel right now and hear about the anniversary.

There is also a secret I haven’t told a soul since it happened. As if the night Walker found Hayes and me in my office wasn’t bad enough, my phone had a missed call when I finally fished it out of my purse when I got home.

A voicemail introduction with “You have a call from a Florida State inmate” was all I heard before I deleted it. The night the Pistons won the division series, my father called to talk. It has been months since I’ve heard from him, since he’s made an overt attempt to reach me. The letter he wrote me the week he went to jail is still sitting in the last drawer on the right of this kitchen island, and I want to rip it to shreds.

“I’ve told you before, I’m not a damsel. I don’t need you to save me,” I snap, throwing my wooden spoon into the sink.

By the time I look up, Hayes’ green eyes are full of pity and determination. “I’m not saving you, I’m supporting you. That’s what you do for the people you love. Now, can we please sit down and talk about it? Or at least let me hold you?”

There are so many things we have to talk about, but I’m afraid that if I start, only the worst will come out. Since Walker caught us, I can’t help feeling like this is the moment the other shoe drops.

“I just wanted to be alone tonight. Why couldn’t you respect that?”

He throws his hands up. “Because you’ve been saying that for a week, and I knew you’d be messed up tonight. Have you talked to your family? Or—”

“Or what?” My tongue is a whip.

“Have you talked to your father?” He dares to ask it.

My chuckle is sardonic as hell. “What, have you finally gotten Walker to talk to you? Because that sounds like it’s coming from him.”

Hayes shakes his head in confusion. “What? No. But, and I say this as someone who vehemently loathes Jimmy Callahan, it might make you feel better if you do. You’ve been running from the confrontation since the whole thing happened. I can’t even get you to open up about it with me. The man isn’t Voldemort, and the more power you give to not addressing him or refusing to talk about the fucked-up things he did that affected your life … well, the more power you give him over you.”

I suck in my cheeks stubbornly, pissed off that he’s poking at a sore spot on the day I need it the least. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Hayes comes toward me like he might embrace me, but then stops short. “Because you won’t let me have an idea! You might not have a nuclear family, but I never did either. It’s not