I wouldn’t outright lie to Wilder, but it didn’t make me any less upset that he was antagonizing me. “Because the thought of being with random women holds no appeal to me anymore.”
“And why is that?” he continued, his voice still sharp. He knew I was evading the real answer.
Well, he could keep asking, but I wasn’t going to say it.
“It’s gotten old,” I bit out.
Undeterred, he asked, “And why has it gotten old?”
“Stop it, Wilder.”
“No,” he refused. “Tell me why it’s gotten old.”
I shook my head at him. “I’m not playing this game with you.”
“You already are.” He was as stubborn as I was, and he wouldn’t back down easily. “And I’ll win eventually.”
Damn him for playing into my competitive side. “It’s not going to happen.”
“The only reason you don’t want to have this conversation with me is because you’re scared. Scared of losing, yes, but more scared of saying what you really feel.”
I wanted to punch him in the face right now. In a brotherly way, of course.
“I’m not scared of anything. There’s nothing to be scared of.” I gave up trying not to lie. He knew I was lying through my teeth and wasn’t buying any of it.
Iwasscared. It was true I hated to lose, but I was worried I’d be losing a lot more if I admitted to the truth. I’d been adamant for years about not doing the exact thing that had happened with Isla. My lifestyle had always been an intentional choice, but it had also been a barrier, a way for me to cope. Losing my coping mechanism was overwhelming and a bit terrifying, no matter how much I didn’t want to acknowledge it.
“If that’s true, you won’t have any problem telling me why sleeping around has gotten old.” He wasn’t going to let up. He’d keep pushing.
My jaw clenched as I shook my head, not able to respond as I tried to regain control. I’d already lied—what would a few more lies hurt if it got him off my back? “Maybe I just need to sleep with Isla and get her out of my system. Then I’ll be ready to go back to how things used to be.”
My words had the desired effect as a look of anger and annoyance passed over his face. He knew I was full of shit, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t hoping he’d let the subject drop.
“Don’t say stupid shit like that. We both know that’s not how it would go.” He seemed truly angry now, his challenging demeanor gone. “You need to stop hiding behind sex and football and start manning up to your feelings, no matter how weak you think it makes you.” His breath came out in angry huffs. “Your mom would be heartbroken if she knew—”
I quickly got to my feet. “Don’t you dare bring her into this!” I yelled.
He stood, taking a step toward me. “I damn well will bring her into this. I’m not going to sit here and baby you anymore.”
“Baby me?” I cut in, my fury unmistakable.
“Yes,babyyou. I’ve sat by and watched you screw girl after girl, focusing only on football and getting laid to keep your pain at bay, and I’m sick of it. I hate watching you drown in the pain and loneliness.”
My fists clenched. “You have no idea what it’s been like for me!”
He had no right to throw this all in my face. How I chose to deal with my pain was my business, not his.
“I know I can’t completely understand everything you’ve been through, but I’ve been with you every step of the way,” he yelled back. “I’ve been there when the pain became too much. I’ve been there when you chose numbness over feeling. I’ve been there when you put on a mask and act like the fun guy who doesn’t have a care in the world. And I’ve been there every time you’ve gotten drunk off your ass because you couldn’t deal with the haunting memories.”
I looked down at my feet, not able to look him in the eyes. He’d been a good friend to me over the years. The best, really. Hehadbeen with me every step of the way.
He was quiet for a few seconds before he continued. “You finally found someone who could help break through your pain, who makes you happy.” He gestured toward the door, indicating Isla across the hall. “Do you hear what I’m saying? You haven’t been truly happy for six years. And then you finally find someone who makes you feel alive again, who reminds me of the old Slate, and you’re just going to let her go?”
“It’s not that easy,” I argued. I couldn’t just change everything that I’d thought would be my future. Could I?
“It is that easy,” Wilder exclaimed. “Tell me one good reason why it’s not.”
I had reasons but none of them he would consider good ones. They were reasons based in fear. Instead, I finally told the truth. “I’m scared.”
