“Look,” she shoves her phone in front of my face. “What do you see?”
Her screen fills with a video inside the Stingrays’s stadium, where women decorated in team colors line the railing, hoping to catch the players’ eyes. Most likely Cole’s.
“Just look. We all know he could have any of them,” Van points out.
“Heck, he could have any model, athlete, actress. . . ” Lyla adds.
“But he doesn’t want them, Ry.” Van is closing her case. “He wants you.”
A burn ignites in my throat.
“You’re the one who should be at his game today. Not the glam squad looking to land five minutes of NFL-girlfriend-fame,” Jos tosses out.
“I love him,” I admit softly through the damn tears forming in my eyes. “I want him to be happy and have everything. I don’t want any of this to touch him and remain safe from what I can never be free of.”
Jamie finally turns toward me. “Ry, no one needs to be protected from you.” Her voice cracks on the last word.
I shake my head. “He does. He’ll want a family and—”
“Look at us,” Jos says. “We’re just a group of lost girls, but now we’re sisters. A family isn’t always white picket fences, immaculately kept homes with two parents and two kids. Sometimes, it’s a rented house with mismatched posts, kids fighting in the front yard, and two people sitting on a worn-down swing, damn grateful for what they never thought they’d have.”
I glare at her, thinking about Cole’s tiny, understated cabin.
“If you can tell us that just being near him doesn’t make all that hurt more tolerable, we’ll drop it. . .for good,” Jamie says and then sniffs, wiping her nose.
Jos holds up her hand. “Let me remind you that your ship will be sunk if you even try to lie to us.”
Their phones buzz again, and I swipe at a tear with my sleeve.
“Ry, look,” Van puts her phone in front of me again, and it’s a picture of Cole squatting down on the sideline with. . .Matt, a small, tentative smile pulling at the corners of his lips. Van swipes, and the next is of them fist-bumping. Another of him showing Matt his helmet. Then, the two of them stare straight at me as Cole kneels beside him.
“See. None of it matters to him,” Van says quietly. “He’s standing on the field with a little boy you plucked from hell. A kid who doesn’t like to be touched and wakes in the middle of the night screaming. His smile is rare, and his words are even rarer. Would you tell Mattie that he doesn’t deserve Cole’s love? Would you tell him to turn away and run to keep Cole from seeing any of those things?”
I stare at his face on the screen, and my eyes sting with the truth. Mattie is exactly where he should be. With a man who is safe and makes all the hurt and pain that never go away more. . .bearable. No. His love makes it momentarily disappear.
I lean forward, all the tears I’ve never let fall break free.
“If you’d quit being a dummy, you’d be there, too,” Jos says, but her voice is tender.
I blink through the mess on my face as they wipe their eyes.
I use the cuff of my sleeve to soak it all up. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” It comes out like a gutted whine.
“Get your ass together and go tell him you’re done being stupid and are ready to love him back,” Jos says.
“Yeah, just like that.” I scoff.
The room goes silent, and they all stare at me.
“Seriously?”
“Uh, yes. You’ve made The Assignment wait long enough,” Lyla says with a glossy-eyed smile.
“Hurry up. Shower and get yourself looking a little less like a depressed mess. If he sees you all unkept, he’s likely to change his mind,” Van orders, shooing me off the couch.
“I’ll have my Uber drop you off at the stadium,” Lyla says.
I turn back. “You’re dropping me off?”
