False Start - Jessica Ruddick Page 0,33
that easy to take my mind off Ziz.
You’re the one who’s hurting me, Carson.
Every time those words echoed in my mind, salt poured into the wound.
“Was she pissed about that thing with Stossel?” Rachel asked. “I noticed she left right after that.” With as drunk as Rachel had been, I was surprised she’d noticed, but girls paid attention to that sort of thing, apparently even when they were drunk.
“She wasn’t thrilled,” I said tightly.
You’re the one who’s hurting me, Carson.
I scrubbed my hands over my head, wishing I could scrub those words from my mind. It was like she’d known the perfect thing to say to gut me. She couldn’t have come up with more effective words if she’d tried. But she wasn’t like that. She would never try to hurt me on purpose.
Rachel opened her mouth, closed it, and then repeated the sequence several times. She looked like a fish gasping for air.
I blew out a breath. “Just say it.” I really didn’t want to talk about it, but I could admit that a woman’s insight might be helpful in clarifying everything. The faster I could get back to normal with Ziz, the better.
“Are you sure you’re not dating?” Rachel cringed. “I mean, Becca told me you aren’t, but—”
“But what?” I challenged, hating myself a little for how confrontational I sounded. But it was a dumbass question. I would know if I was dating someone, and since Ziz had told Rachel we weren’t, that should have been the end of it. Besides that, Ziz was practically my sister. We’d grown up together. She was family.
“You acted like a jealous boyfriend.”
I scoffed. “I did not act like a jealous boyfriend. I was just looking out for her. That’s all.” Anyway, I wasn’t the jealous type. Case in point—I’d dated plenty of girls, and I had never gotten jealous over any of them. I tried to ignore the small part of my brain that was waving a red flag like a damn matador. I’d never dated anyone worth getting jealous over. Ziz was definitely worth it… but we weren’t dating. Jealousy hadn’t been the reason for my actions.
“Stossel didn’t do anything wrong, though,” Rachel pointed out. “They were in the middle of a bar, laughing and joking around.” When she put it like that, I felt like a Neanderthal. She was missing the bigger picture, though.
“That’s fine, but she shouldn’t date a football player.” Or any other player. I knew better than anyone that almost all guys were players. Becca didn’t need some jackass breaking her heart.
Rachel sat up. “Why not? I’m dating a football player. My best friend is dating a football player.”
Shit. This was entrapment. I should have known better than to get into a relationship discussion with a woman. Luckily, Jake walked in, so I could appeal to his better judgment. “Would you let your sister date a teammate?”
His gaze went back and forth between his girlfriend and me. “Considering my sisters are twelve and eight, that’s a hard no.”
“Don’t be dense,” Rachel said. “What if they were in college?”
Again, Jake’s gaze slid between us. “Why do I get the feeling I’m being set up to fail?”
“Ugh… I’m too hungover for this,” Rachel said. “Carson, I’m going to ignore the many contradictions with your argument that football players are undateable, especially since you are one. Instead, I’ll just say this: It’s a shame you won’t ‘let’”—she put air quotes around let—“Becca date a football player, because the two of you would be adorable together.”
Puppies were adorable, and kittens, too, if a person was into them, but the idea of me dating Ziz wasn’t adorable. It was ludicrous. We were too close for that. Even if that weren’t true, it was still crazy. I would never be good enough for her.
Too bad, because I was probably the only one who knew how she deserved to be treated. My chest tightened at the thought of some other guy dating Becca and doing it completely wrong.
I forced a laugh. “Whatever you say, Rachel.”
Shaking her head, she stood. “I’m going to soak in the bath. If I’m not out in thirty minutes, that means I’ve drowned myself to put myself out of my misery. Effing Bahama Mamas.”
***
Carson
OUR SECOND GAME of the season, and we fucking lost. The University of Miami was a conference rival and always a tough match-up. This time, they were too tough. They’d beaten us by three, and it fucking sucked. But we weren’t the same team we were