“I’m sorry about the comment. I don’t… I don’t want to bring that up every five seconds. I’m not ready to jump into a friendship with you again, but I also don’t think it’s healthy to throw the past in our faces all the time. I said my part yesterday.” I swallowed and held up my drink. “Thank you for the drink.”
“You’re welcome.” He studied me hard, his attention moving all over my face. It bounced from my mouth to my eyes, my cheeks and jaw. “I have so many questions for you.”
“Yeah?” I leaned back into the booth, crossing one leg over the other. I tucked my foot behind his knee, like we used to do, then immediately yanked it back. “Wow, sorry?—”
“I want it back.” He grabbed my foot and placed it behind his knee. His large hand covered my whole foot entirely as he positioned it. “I’m struggling a bit to be honest with you. When I see you, I’m brought back years like nothing has changed. I want to pull you into a hug and mess with your hair, but I know I can’t.”
“I’m struggling too.” I exhaled, then swallowed down the ball of emotion in my throat. He seemed so vulnerable, open. He used to be that way, but the persona I saw of him on campus was the opposite.
Party animal. Always down for anything. Slept around. Smiling all the time.
He stared at me as he scrubbed his hand over his jaw, almost like he struggled with what to say or do. I felt bad for him even though I shouldn’t. I nudged him. “What’s your first question?”
Relief flooded his eyes. “What have you been doing the last three years? Tell me everything.”
I laughed. “Callum, that is too large of a statement.”
He brushed off my comment. “You don’t post anything online where I can follow you. I have no idea what you’ve been doing except clearly joining the athletic program to get the internship and volunteering at the animal shelter.”
“You tried following me?” My stomach bottomed out.
He nodded. He sipped his coffee and stared over my shoulder with his gaze unfocused. “After about three weeks, I knew I fucked up. We had never fought. Not once. This was our first huge one, but then football really started up, and I was a dumb eighteen-year-old. Time went on, and I pretended I didn’t miss you. That’s not an excuse, but it’s the truth.” He cleared his throat and waited until I met his eyes. “Three weeks turned into months, then years. It got easier to not think about you. Pride got in the way too at some point. You could’ve reached out to me.Hell, I’m a celebrity on campus. At any point, you could’ve found me like you did in high school when my head was in my ass.”
I remained still, my pulse pounding in my ears. Hearing thishurt.Even after my own promise to not bring up the past, it was clear we couldn’t move forward without addressing it.
“Nothing in my life felt right without you.” His voice came out all scratchy and full of emotion. “I’m so sorry.”
“Damnit.” I sniffed. “I told myself there were no more tears. I shed enough over you, overthis.”
He winced, like the fact I’d cried gutted him. “I took out my anger and frustration of my life on you, the one person I never wanted to hurt. The stuff with my dad was horrible, and I’m still angry about it. I never had anything bad happen to me, and I had no coping mechanisms to deal with it. Instead of addressing my issues, I pushed them down and avoided them. Then, seeing you at the stadium was like someone dumped a cold bucket of water on me, waking me up.”
“You said we were both to blame,” I whispered, hating how tight my muscles were. My legs ached when I was stressed. “It was so easy blaming you for everything that night. To say you broke us without me owning any of it. I struggled with adjusting to you playing football here, moving to campus, and already having such a life. I was jealous you were going to move on without me, the deadweight. I mean, hell, my parents barely acknowledge my existence because of sports.”
His jaw ticked. “You’re not a deadweight, Ivy.”
“I know that now,” I fired back, not unkindly. “I didn’t have to block you, but it seemed easier to officially end this before you did. To hurt you before you hurt me more. But now I wished you’d told me about your dad.”
He blinked slowly, releasing a long breath. “When I drink, I replay everything I said to you that night. I don’t have manyregrets in life, Ivy Lee, but losing you is one of them. Now, I want to hear about you, please. All the things. Even if it’s hard for me.”
I sighed. “I’d prefer this new stage of our friendship to be honest. Even if it’s painful. You asked what I’ve been doing the last three years? Well. I’ve grown up a little. I prefer quality over quantity. I enjoy my alone time and my own company, which is crazy. I stopped caring what my parents think and want to break into the NFL forme.You know I love stats and facts, and I want to help the women in NFL stats. I know I’m not a burden to anyone, and if they think that, they don’t deserve to be in my life.”
His eyes widened, and he grinned hard. “Fuck yeah, that’s my girl. I love this version of you.”
I lit up. His entire face had pride written all over it. Making Callum proud always brought me a thrill. It seemed that hadn’t changed. He used to call me his girl in high school too, and every instance, it made my heart skip a beat. That tradition continued too.
“I hate that I knew what you’ve been doing this whole time. You’re a campus legend and are always everywhere. It made ignoring you hard.”
He blushed slightly before waving a hand. “Most of it is probably exaggerated.”
I pursed my lips. “I’m gonna beg to differ. Do you party a lot?”
He nodded.
“Pose with fans often? Meet at a bar every Tuesday night? Hook up a lot?”
“I mean, yes, but I also tutor guys on the team and volunteer at the same place you do. When I wanted to follow you and couldn’t, I searched every shelter near campus until I found the one you went to. I made sure to never be on your shift, butI loved hearing the owner of the shelter talk about you.” He sucked in a deep breath. “I sound crazy when I say it out loud.”
“Yeah, but you’ve always been crazy.” I nudged his knee again. “In an effort of being honest, it feels really good to hear you admit this. There were countless times I assumed you’d never think of me again.”
