“Because you’re more fun than Dean.”
Dean Romano. Quarterback.This is his twin sister.The girl dating Luca Monroe, our tight end. Relief trickled through me, causing swirls in my stomach that had no place being there.There was no logical reason to be glad she wasn’t with Callum. I didn’t feelthatway about him at all.
Yet the relief was there, and I found myself smiling. “I’m not sure what Callum has told you, but I have a ton of blackmail stories on him if you need them.”
Her eyes flashed with glee. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, please. I’m so glad we ran into each other! He said you kinda went your own ways, and that’s why I haven’t seen you around before, but you seem fantastic.”
Went your own ways.
That was what we’re calling it then? I sucked the corner of my lip into my mouth, finally letting my attention move toward Callum. He had his hands in his pockets, his low-riding jeans ripped at the knees. He wore a tight white shirt with sunglasses hanging from the center. His jaw flexed, and an unwanted rush of heat went through me. He was ridiculously handsome, and I hated that I noticed. He was never one to be embarrassed because he didn’t think shame was worth feeling about anything that was done and over with, but for the first time in my life, he looked guilty.
“That’s one way of putting it,” I said, a rush of power giving me confidence. “Is that the story that makes you feel better about yourself?”
4
CALLUM
There’s my girl’s backbone. Took a bit to grow, but damn, it looks good on her.
She’s making fun of you, dumbass.
I know, but it’s nice seeing her angry and speaking up.
My internal monologue kept the same tone, but different voices popped up when things got heated. Like now, where Ivy was mad at me, and instead of feeling even more guilt, pride weaved itself way in there. She never quipped back at others, often taking the higher road and avoiding confrontation altogether.
Her large doe eyes stared back at me, the hurt she wore on her sleeve shining through the anger. I didn’t believe in the word regret because it was a waste of feelings and energy. You couldn’t fix shit that was already done, so why worry about it? It made me a beast on the field, and that was a good thing.
I had no regrets in my life because every decision, choice, conversation, and moment led me to the present, and I loved living in the current, but the summer of losing Ivy as my person caused an unfamiliar, horrible pang deep in my chest that bordered with the feeling of remorse.
I’d hurt her, and instead of owning it, I avoided it and her. Then, when I tried to reach out, to find normalcy, the girl I knew was gone. No one wanted to admit they were the asshole in that moment, but she wasn’t innocent in this either. However, being the empath I was, I recognized now wasn’t the time to refute it. Plus, she seemed to not give a single shit about me.
I never stopped caring about her or checking in on her. I stalked her on social media, not in a creepy way but in a way to make sure she was happy. Like the time she got a flat tire? I hung around to make sure it was changed from the distance. Or the time the shelter closed down because of some electrical issues—I called the guy and paid for it.
Because of course Ivy came here. It was pure her. I was comfortable protecting her from afar instead of acknowledging the truth of what happened that summer, but now that was all for shit, since she worked for my goddamn team.
Look at her twitching eye. She is big mad.
Good.
She looked good angry at me.
“Yeah. High school friends grow apart in college all the time.” I shrugged, squeezing my fists in my pockets. I wanted to go work out, run or something to burn through this energy. Seeing her indifference at me Friday ate at me, pissed me off to the point I wanted to see her get angry. I might’ve driven the wedge between us, but she’d grabbed a shovel and made it wider and wider. At this point, what harm would it do to make it an inch larger?
I liked the way her cheeks reddened and her eyes grew bigger when she was pissed at me. She had fire in her. She pushed back on me in a bold new move, and I was selfish as fuck to want more. Who was this version of Ivy Emerson?
Ivy adjusted her glasses, took a deep breath, and flexed her jaw. The greens of her eyes dulled to a pale emerald, like peas,before she forced a fake-ass smile. “True. You’re right. We grew apart.”
Lorelei frowned, her brain going a million miles an hour trying to figure out the lies surrounding us. She did this tongue clicking thing when she was on the hunt. The tension was as thick as the smell of dog shit. It’d take a fool to not feel the hurt clouding around us.
You can’t lie to Lorelei. She’ll sniff it out like a drug dog.
Yeah, man, what are you gonna tell her?
The truth? Ha, you’re an asshole. She’ll know the truth then.
I mentally duct-taped the inner voice, which only worked for a few minutes. Honestly, being trapped on an island alone would still be too many people.
Lo practically bounced as she watched the kittens, whatever concern she had disappearing. “Well, I just reconnected with this girl who I hated in high school. She played on a rival team, and she just had this punchable little face, and I don’t say that lightly. I’m not violent.”
