“I liked you,” I whisper.
Not what I need to say to make this situation better.
But it’s the truth.
I’m crying because I’m mourning what I can’t have.
Friends. Home. A crush on a nice guy who might or might not want me back—I’m well aware that I’m a lot right now and I shouldn’t read into a nice guy asking me to go to the movies with him and some friends that he thinks I’ll like.
But I can’t even have a date.
“I was excited about going to the movies.”
Yep. I say that too.
Those fathomless brown eyes lift to study me, more serious than I’ve seen him since the night we met when he thought I was an intruder looking for a good place to devour a chicken in my car.
“Me too,” he says. “And that’s why I need to leave.”
My battered heart whimpers in frustration.He likes me too. “That’s sostupid. I didn’t move in here because you play rugby. You didn’t ask me to house-sit because of who my dad is.” I pause. “Did you?”
“I like my job.”
I blow my nose again and stare at him. “What does that mean?”
“I absolutely wouldn’t have offered to let you stay at my house if I knew who you were. I would’ve talked Brydie into helping you instead so it wouldn’t have looked like I had anything to do with it at all.”
“But you were leaving the Pounders to play overseas. You weren’t going to be one of my dad’s players anymore. What did it matter?”
“Coming back was always the contingency plan.”
“We didn’t do anything wrong. So why can’t everything stay the same?”
“Because your dad would fire my ass or trade me, and the only thing worse than an injury killing my chances of ever playing in Europe again is the idea of not having the family I’ve made here to come back to.”
My heart squeezes as tightly as I want to hug him.
I came home to be with family when my world flipped upside down.
Apparently, so did he.
And now, months after his brother died, he’s injured. If Dad traded him, he’d be injured and alone without knowing who on his new team were the people he could trust and who would be the people who’d help him because they were obligated to and who’d stab him in the back at the first opportunity.
How stupid.
“I won’t let him fire you or trade you.”
“Ziggy—”
“I’m not living in your house because we’re trying to sneak around behind his back. You did me a favor. Now I’m doing you a favor. Home is the best place to heal. I’m already here. You need a good diet to get better too. Knowing your dog is taken care of. Feeling as normal as possible. We didn’t do anything wrong. We’re not doing anything wrong. And if he doesn’t like it, I’ll—I’ll—dammit.”
I don’t know what I’ll do.
Threaten to move to Napa and never let them see the babyis extreme.
But itistop on my list of ideas.
My bad ideas.
