‘Then I can help. Introduce me to your father.’
I want to tell him that I’m not who he thinks I am. Or who he wants me to be. ‘Jake, no. I can’t.’
‘One hour. You can’t spare one hour just to talk to me?’
‘Maybe it’s for the best,’ I choke out.
His voice grows hoarse. ‘Please. Don’t do this.’
‘I’ve done too much already. I’m sorry. I have to go.’
I hang up the phone. There’s a tightness in my chest that makes it harder to breathe. I let the sobs overcome me, and I bury my head in my pillow to muffle the sounds.
Chapter Eighteen
Jake
Friday morning, I lie in bed and stare at the ceiling. I wonder if I’d been more of a bro, a big dumbass fuckboy, going out every night to strip clubs and having random hook-ups with women I met on Instagram, whether I would have gotten laid a shit ton more in my life by now and Serenity would still be talking to me, because, hey, I’d be fucking irresistible to women.
Except I’m not irresistible to women. At least, not to the one that I want.
I haven’t spoken to Serenity since Monday night when she hung up on me.
I’m trying not to be a selfish asshole here. And yet, I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something more to her keeping her distance from me.
My whole life, I’ve toed the line. High school star athlete. The steady, reliable, nice guy who never drank too much, never slept around, ignored all the girls who slid into my DMs. I don’t even know why anymore.
Serenity. There’s another story. She’s beautiful, and I’m not the only guy who knows it. And I know she’s not a rulebreaker, but it’s like, even if there was no contract, she doesn’t seem to have time for me.
It makes my heart ache that maybe there’s something in her life I don’t know about.
Or maybe someone.
My phone lights up on the nightstand. I reach for it, and squint at the screen.
‘S’up, Cap?’ I answer to Dalt Briar.
‘Hey, man. Just checking in. Checking you’re cool with… you know… the news this morning.’
I sit up in bed. ‘What news?’
‘Oh, crap. You ain’t seen it. Ally did say to me that I should ask you that first. I figured you would have already.’
‘I don’t get what you’re talking about,’ I say.
‘Pictures of you and Lemon Conway are all over the local news. It’s just… you know… stupid paparazzi shit.’
My eyes close. ‘Fuck,’ I grind out.
‘You took her out again?’
‘Yesterday, for lunch. It was warm, we sat outside.’
‘Yeah, well, there must have been a photographer pitched up. The pictures are pretty clear.’
‘Goddamn it,’ I snap, and push the sheets back. I go to my desk and open my laptop. This week cannot get any worse.
‘Look, if you want, I can ask the guys to go easy on you. Tell ’em you didn’t have a choice.’
