Hate the Game - Winter Renshaw Page 0,45
here.”
Talon squints. “He probably is.”
“Really? Why?”
“Don’t take it personally,” he says. “It’s not about you. It’s about football. It’s always about football with him. I’m sure he thinks you’re going to be a distraction to my workout schedule or some bullshit like that.”
From the corner of my eye, I spot an oversized glass case filled to the brim with trophies, awards, medals, and framed photos. I’m not sure how I missed this when we walked in because now that I see it, I can’t take my eyes off it. The presentation is quite … ostentatious.
He follows my attention and exhales. “That is all my mother’s doing. For the record, I would never enshrine my accomplishments.”
“I think it’s cute,” I say, making my way over. “A little over the top, but it paints a pretty vivid picture of who you are.”
He clears his throat. “Let me know when you want to head back down.”
I turn to him, almost laughing. “Does this make you uncomfortable?”
I can’t imagine Mr. Big Ego wanting to shy away from the limelight when all he’s ever done is shine, but now that I look at him, I realize his hands are on his hips and his jaw is set and nothing about him looks like he wants to be in here, re-living his glory days.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“What? Yeah,” he says, frowning. “Just hungry.”
“Liar.” I study him closer. “What’s going on?”
Talon’s rounded shoulders lift. “I just don’t like looking at any of this shit.”
“This shit?” I repeat. “Talon, this is your life’s work. These are your accomplishments. You should be proud to show these off.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not, so—”
I’m beyond confused. “Guess I never took you for a humble guy.”
“You and everyone else.” His words are chilled, his delivery distant.
“Is this a sensitive subject for you?” I ask, pointing to the overflowing case.
His brows lift and he stares through me for a sec, his hands still firm on his hips. It almost seems like he has something to say, something to get off his chest, but the words are stuck inside him.
“You’re acting weird …”
“I just … this case represents everything I hate,” he says.
“Wait. What?”
Talon pinches the bridge of his nose before striding to his bed and taking a seat on the edge. His body is folded over, elbows on his knees, and he releases a heavy breath.
“I’ve never said that before,” he says.
I take the spot beside him, resting my hand on his back in a silent show to let him know I’m here for him.
Glancing up at the case on the other side of the room, his body stiffens. “I hate the game, Irie.”
I’m digging deep for the right thing to say in this moment, but I’m coming up empty-handed.
“Dinner’s ready,” a young voice interrupts us, and we turn toward the door. A petite girl with straight dark hair leans against the jamb. “They told me to come get you guys.”
“Thanks, Kels,” Talon says, climbing up from the bed. He reaches for my hand and leads me out of the room, but all I can think about is that bombshell he just dropped.
I never would have seen that coming in a million years.
He always seemed so sure of himself, so confident in his talent and his goals and ambitions, but was it all for show? All for nothing? And what does it say about a man who can work so hard for so long, obsessively chasing after a single objective … only to have a change of heart and throw it all away?
Chapter 24
Talon
I wake to the smell of bacon wafting from the kitchen Sunday morning. Reaching over, I find the spot beside me cold and vacant. Flinging the covers off, I head to the bathroom to clean up.
We left my parents’ house last night and came back to my place to chill for a bit. She talked me into watching the cheesiest show she could possibly find on Netflix. We were one and a half episodes in when out of nowhere, she climbed into my lap, threw her arms around my shoulders, and crushed her petal soft lips against mine.
She kissed me hard and recklessly, zero abandon, and the way things were headed, I thought for sure last night was going to be the night, but she wasted no time pumping the brakes the second I slid my hand up her shirt.
Regardless of that setback, I convinced her to stay the night …
I guess you could say we’ve slept together now—even if