“Yeah, I guess.”
“Why did she write the, um, not so flattering stuff about you?” Wilder asks.
I slump down in my chair before answering, “She was angry with me and venting. I guess she journals a lot to work through stuff she’s dealing with.”
“I mean, that’s not so bad,” Carson cautiously shrugs. “Skyler journals sometime. It really helps her process things. Everyone needs an outlet, and she didn’t mean for anyone else to read it… ”
“She still wrote it,” I growl. “But… to be fair, I did make her really mad. She found out I knew she was the girl I was talking to on Cloak and thought I’d been lying to her on purpose.”
“Okay, so that’s a decent reason for her to be angry and need to vent,” Jensen murmurs. “And she has apologized, right?”
I frown. “What are you getting at?”
Jensen hesitates before answering, “Well… don’t you want to be with her? Can’t you forgive her for this?”
I don’t speak for several long moments, because honestly, I don’t know what to say. Yes, I do want to be with her still, but the hurt is too deep for me to let it go so easily.
“I’m not sure,” I finally admit. “I’m not sure what I want to do anymore.”
Jayce reaches over and clasps me on the shoulder. “Look, man, I’ve seen the way you and Rylee are with each other. It’s so similar to Jensen, Carson, and Owen, it’s sick. But take it from a guy who might never get the chance to experience that… don’t let your anger overshadow what you really feel for her.”
“Damn, Jayce,” Wilder says, looking awed. “That’s beautiful.”
I sit back as a waitress brings another round of beers and consider Jayce’s words carefully. What makes this time so different from all the others? I’ve been let down by women before, but why does it cut so much deeper this time? Is it because I was so certain Rylee was endgame?
Maybe it’s because part of me still doesn’t think she believes the same of me.
“I’ll think about it,” I tell them once the waitress leaves again.
“That’s all you need to do,” Jensen assures me. “For now.”
I feel a little better now that I’ve talked to my boys, but I still have no idea what I’m going to do. All I know is that when I think about a future without Rylee, it seems hollow and bleak.
But I’m just not certain what a future with her would look like anymore.
Despite hoping that a few days would help me clear my head and figure out what I want to do, that is far from the case. It’s been three days, and I’m still completely miserable. Practices have been rough, and today was no exception. Everyone else isalready gone because Coach kept me behind to rip me a new asshole before finally letting me go home.
Making my way out of the stadium and into the employee parking lot, I head for my truck but freeze when I spot a familiar face.
“Ms. Benson?” I shake my head in disbelief as Rylee’s mom approaches me with a determined look on her face. Panic seizes me. “What are you doing here? Is Rylee okay?”
“Rylee’s fine,” she assures me. “She’s just left for Ireland. I’m here because I was wondering if you and I could talk.”
“Uh… yeah, sure,” I stammer.
“Is there someplace we can go that’s close?” she asks.
I have to force my racing thoughts to calm down so I can think. “Yes, there’s a bar and grill just down the block. Will that work?”
“Sounds perfect.”
I drop my duffle bag in my truck and then Ms. Benson and I walk out of the parking lot and down the block to the restaurant, which is a fan favorite on game days, but is pretty quiet and subdued today.
We sit down at a table in the back, where we have a decent amount of privacy. I have a feeling we’re going to need it.
“So,” I gently prompt once we’re settled. “What did you want to talk about? It must be important to have brought you all the way to Denver.”
She releases a long breath and clasps her hands together on the table in front of her.
