He can’t make me happy, just like I can’t stop these damned feelings I have. “I’m sorry.” It’s feeble and unfair, but I don’t know what else I can say. “You’re great.”
God, I sound like a cliche. It’s not you, it’s me! But it’s true. It’s all so very true; Paolo couldn’t be any more perfect. It’s just that I can’t appreciate him the way he deserves to be appreciated.
“I—” I try again. “If I had any influence over my feelings, I would choose you in a heartbeat. I hope you know how amazing you are.”
It’s clearly not helping, as a pained expression crosses Paolo’s face. “You know the worst thing?” he asks. “I feel about you the way you feel about him. You’re a walking red flag and I knew it all along, and I still couldn’t give you up.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper and Paolo presses his lips together and shakes his head.
“You should probably go.”
Fireworks go off on the telly, as if to make fun of me. Of us.
The words hit me unexpectedly, but he’s right, of course. I don’t know what I expected. To keep stringing him along, hoping he’ll stick around long enough to finally, maybe, see my feelingschange? I’ve been a complete arse towards him and we both know it.
And even though I’m the bad guy in this situation, I can’t help but feel sorry for myself as I collect my clothes from next to the bed and put them on. Because now I’ve lost them both—the guy who doesn’t want me, and the guy I don’t want.
The door closes behind me with a quiet click and I slip on my boating shoes. The evening is still balmy, the faint music outside still playing—it’s just my world that has gone dark and grey.
CHAPTER 14
Freddie
The phone ringsthrough for the dozenth time and I groan in frustration, tempted to throw the damn thing on the burgundy settee in the front room. I’ve been back from the EUROs for a full day and have had no luck in reaching Marlon. I’m exhausted, emotionally ruined, and desperate to see him. Hear his voice, drown in his embrace. Make the world go away until it’s just him and me.
The thing is, he doesn’t seem to feel the same way.
He hasn’t responded to any of my messages, anyway. Not called back. He must have seen by now that I’ve tried to be in contact. But…I plop down on the sofa and grab a pillow so I can groan into it. I can’t blame him. I never responded to that one text he sent me. He’s probably seen the photos of DJ and me that were everywhere once the media attention in me picked up. We played up the happy couple, knowing what’s expected of us, and I felt hollow afterwards.
I can’t even imagine what it must have been like for him.
But this is exactly why I want to talk to him. To explain everything, make sure he’s not hurt. And yeah, okay, maybe for more selfish reasons, too. I want to see him, need to see him, just the two of us. Before the season starts and we’re back tobeing team mates. I want to drink my fill of his beautiful face and delicious body.
I whine into the pillow. I miss him so much it hurts.
On a whim, I pick up my phone and scroll until I get to Clara’s name. We’ve never spoken over the phone, having done all her scheming in the winter over text. No idea what I’m trying to achieve with this, but I guess it can’t hurt to try. Maybe she’ll at least talk to me.
It only takes three rings. “Freddie? Are you dying?”
I laugh, surprised. “What? No! Of course not!” Although seeing that Italian free kick hit the back of the net and not being able to stop it felt a bit like dying. Like being stabbed with a blunt knife while the whole world watched.
Clara huffs. “Then why are you calling? Who does that?” She sounds nonplussed rather than angry, but I’m still caught off-guard.
“Uh—” What am I supposed to say to that? “I wanted to talk to you?”
“Okay, then text? Like a normal person?” She sighs. “Okay, but I’m already here, so let’s have a little chinwag. What’s up?”
I press my lips together, but this is what I wanted. So now I need to do the embarrassing thing and say it all out loud. “I’ve been trying to reach Marlon,” I say and roll over to my back, hiding my hands behind my free hand. “But I’ve had no luck. I’m a bit worried, is he okay?”
There’s a pause that feels more loaded with every passing heartbeat. “So he’s ignoring you?” Clara finally asks. “The way you should do, too? Because you’re team mates?”
“Wha—” I sit upright, feeling unfairly judged. “Youset us up!”
“For sex!” she shoots back. “Not for dumb feelings.” That hits me, deep in the chest, because yes, those feelings are so dumb. I haven’t been fighting them for nothing. But Clara alreadycontinues, leaving me no time to feel sorry for myself. “I wanted to give Mar someone he trusted to explore his sexuality.” Her tone has softened and despite her overbearing behaviour, I can tell how much she cares about her little brother. “You were the perfect choice. DJ told me about your little secret at one of our nights out.” She sighs, sounding defeated. “I guess it’s my fault for thinking one of you would be smart enough to not fuck it up.”
I suck in a breath. “Shit, mate.” I didn’t think I could feel any more horrendous, but turns out I was wrong. I grab the pillow and hug it to my chest, looking out of the window at the cloudy July sky. “Didn’t think you’d kick me when I’m already down.”
It takes her a second. “Oh, because of the football thing. Yeah, sorry about that.” She seems completely disinterested, but at least she’s no longer telling me how stupid I am. There’s another pause, and somehow this one seems even more loaded than the previous one. She sighs, eventually. “You should probably hear this from him, so…I think he’s out somewhere.”
