I was being about her dumping me on my ass. Fuck that.
“Is that why you’re still wearing that necklace?” She arched a delicate, dark brow. “Because you don’t care?” With that, she turned around and walked back to the bar, shaking her head the whole time. Within a minute or two, the trio left.
I gripped my bottle to keep my hands from reaching for the little golden chain. I’d packed my house, put it on the market, signed a new contract, and moved to Charleston, but I hadn’t brought myself to take off the last piece of evidence that Savannah had feelings for me at one point. Maybe they weren’t strong enough to choose me over her father, but they had to have been significant enough to give me the necklace.
But London was right. It was also evidence of my inability to let go.
“Damn, you guys have some drama up north,” Sterling said with raised brows.
“Says the guy who wants to nail his brother’s maybe-girlfriend who also happens to be his teammate’s sister.” Briggs laughed.
“In my defense, I didn’t know she was my teammate’s sister,” Sterling responded.
“Is that going to stop you?” I asked, wondering where the line was for everyone else when I’d crossed it months ago.
“Hell no.” Sterling stared at the door like London would walk back through at any minute. “The girl you’re torn up over—your coach’s daughter, right?”
“In my defense,” I took his words. “My ex-coach.”
“Right. Did that stop you?”
I sighed and ripped my hands over my hair. “It should have.”
18
Savannah
The highlights of today's games lit up my father's flatscreen, the smell of his chili filtering in through the kitchen. I almost didn't come today, but it was tradition for me to show up on the days that the Raptors had an off-week. I’d always watched the games that were aired with my dad.
And maybe it was because I was incredibly lonely that I'd set aside my rage to join him when he’d reached out and asked if I was coming. Maybe it was because I missed my best friend who was in Charleston. Maybe it was because I missed Hendrix as he now actively played for Charleston.
The same team that kept popping up on the highlight reel on NFL RedZone.
My arms were folded tightly across my chest, my heart weighing heavy in its center. Every time I thought I'd gathered the right words to open up a dialogue about the extreme pain I felt over what my father had done—regardless of the actions I'd taken to prevent it—I lost my nerve. Because what good would it do?
Hendrix clearly hated me. I’d done that job well. And he'd most likely already moved on. The way he looked at me in the hallway had haunted me since I’d watched him leave the arena.
"Weston tells me you're doing a bang-up job with the upcoming contracts," Dad said from his opposite position on the couch. Things had never been so tension-filled with us. Never been so awkward or painful. But I turned my gaze on him, my lips parting in astonishment.
"Are you really talking about my job right now?" The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. It wasn't that what he said wasn't true. I was kicking the shit out of those contracts. Burying myself in my newfound position was about as close as I could get to feeling anything other than emptiness lately. But was Dad really acting like everything was normal between us?
"I just wanted you to know that I'm proud of you," he said, a little of that pain slipping in his voice. But it didn't have an effect on me, not like it normally would. Something was broken between us, and I didn't know if we could ever mend it. Me being here was my hope that we would find common ground again.
“Dad, I…” Where to start? How to begin?
I shook my head, unable to grasp the right words, and forced my eyes to the screen. The RedZone showed highlights again—
Hendrix Malone.
Of course, he’d be on the screen.
They showed replay after replay of the catch he’d just made—
I gasped and jumped out of my seat. I fumbled across the couch for the remote and hit pause.
Dad grumbled and shook his head. "You really dodged a bullet there," he said. "Look at that kid, no remorse. No worries. Not a care in the world."
The words barely registered in my mind because I was too focused as I stepped up to the