“You fucking existed, Vee. Back then, I didn’t want you to.”
Her green eyes doubled in size.
“You want to talk about sharing?” I didn’t wait for her to respond. While I tried to keep my tone even, the pain this conversation unearthed wasn’t Vee’s alone. “Vee, you were the first girl—the first woman—who didn’t look at me like a lifelong meal ticket. I didn’t have to be smart, or funny, or sexy every fucking minute we were together.” I stood. “I shared shit too. I told you things I’ve never shared with anyone. I told you about my aspirations for professional ball. Hell, I took you to my parents’ home in Bowling Green.” Scoffing, I shook my head. “I bet that was something you told all your rich friends about.”
Vee tilted her head. “What are you talking about?”
“Thanksgiving. You said your dad and stepmother were going to be out of town and you would be going home to an empty house.”
She nodded. “Yeah, the Coopers had a game in New York.”
“You didn’t fucking say that. You never said a damn word about the Coopers.” I inhaled, gripped the railing of Vee’s balcony, and looked out over Lexington. The sky beyond was growing darker, just like my mood. “My parents’ modest four-bedroom ranch was probably laughable to you.”
“No.” Her tone was softer as she reached out to my arm. “Fin, I loved your parents. They were so nice. Your mom taught me how to mash potatoes.” She exhaled. “Not that Daphne ever cooked.”
My timbre was cold. “My turn to call bullshit.”
Vee’s large emerald-green eyes were fixed on mine. “I-I don’t understand.”
“Did you enjoy slumming it?”
“I-I never?—”
“Did you go back to Emma and tell her how average my family was? Did you tell her how small their home was? Did you have a good laugh?”
Tears streamed down Vee’s pink cheeks. “No,” she said definitively. “Why would you think I would do that?”
“I didn’t, not at the time.”
Vee turned, sitting back down in the chair. When I looked, her face was in her hands. She looked up. “Oh God, do your parents think that?”
Her draw was too strong to resist.
I crouched and laid my hand on her knees. “I nevertold my parents. It would have broken my mom’s heart. She really liked you.”
“I-I don’t understand why you think such horrible things about me.”
Inhaling, I stood. “I told you. You weren’t honest with me.”
“Fin, I told you everything about me. I shared everything.”
“Except?”
My one word hung in the air.
Streetlights came to life stories below, and a warm glow came from the windows of her million-dollar condominium.
Vee stood, her shoulders squared. “I told you my name. You knew I was from Lexington. You knew my love of football. You met Leigh. You knew Daphne’s name. I’m sure I mentioned Dad.”
“Dad. You did mention your dad, never by name.”
She spun around. “I don’t call him Reid. I call him Dad.”
“I want you to imagine, you’re starting a new team in Tennessee. A teammate you hardly know sees the picture of the girl you love in your locker, and instead of saying the normal compliments, he makes an offhanded comment about me using you to get into the NFL.”
“Fin.” My name was barely audible. “Shit.”
“Talk about fucking blindsided.”
