Chapter Twenty-Eight
Thomas
For the next few weeks, Lainey and I chat every few days. But it’s not enough. I have no idea how it happened, but all of a sudden, I need her like oxygen, and I hate that we live so far apart. There’s something about her voice that instantly puts me at ease.
She’s my calm in the storm.
And God, I need calm right now. But she doesn’t need my mess.
I finally caved today, answering a call from my mom after watching her name light up my screen six times in a row. With a clenched fist and a bottle of whiskey, I had grand plans to question her on everything that had happened, but she wouldn’t let me speak, immediately accusing me of abandoning her. Just like she did to Summer. Just like I did to Summer. So instead of the anger I held before she started talking, I hung up with a mind full of guilt.
I know I have to go home at some point. But if just hearing my mom speak makes me hate myself more than I already did, imagine what a visit will do.
She’s called another three times since then, and when my phone rings a fourth time, a tightness makes its way into my chest, mixing with the guilt. I almost consider throwing my phone against the brick feature wall in my apartment, picturing the way it will shatter, until I glance at the caller ID and see Lainey’s nickname instead, rushing to answer it.
“You called?” I ask, almost incredulously, not even hiding the relieved sigh that follows as the thick tension evaporates from my body.
Lainey giggles like it’s no big deal, but to me, it’s everything. “You say that like I’ve never called before,” she teases, but she’s got it all wrong.
“Actually I say that like I really needed to hear your voice.”
Lainey giggles again, and the sound runs through me like a sip of my favorite bourbon. But when she follows it with her own sigh, my tension returns. “You never mince your words, do you, Thomas?” she asks playfully, acting like that sigh didn’t exist.
“Not when it comes to you,” I say honestly. “But other things…” Another wave of guilt hits me, and I realize I’ve been holding back on her. Until now, we’ve kept our conversations surface level. But I want that to change. I want to know everything about her. The good, the bad, the stuff that keeps her up at night…makes her sigh.
“I understand that,” Lainey whispers after a beat, the smile dropping from her voice. “How was your day?”
I fall back on the couch and kick my feet up, feeling at ease for the first time, and I want her to feel the same. “Before we get into that, I want to know about you.”
Lainey pauses, and I can picture her deciding whether or not she’s going to be open with me, and when she speaks, I get my answer. “I’m fine,” she says, holding back. “But I did spend way too much money on a lightweight travel bag.”
Huh?I want to circle back to deeper topics, but I can’t let that one go. “A travel bag?” I ask, as a spark ignites in my chest, imagining her coming here.
“Yeah. I signed up for a teaching project in Indonesia. I leave at the beginning of summer.”
Indonesia? She’s leaving again. If that spark was real, it just extinguished.
“That’s incredible, Lainey.” I fake a smile, hoping it will come out in my voice. “What an amazing opportunity.” Even to my ears I sound disingenuous, but it is an amazing opportunity, it’s just the thought of her going away is a little hard to take at the moment.
“I hope so,” Lainey says quietly, sounding unsure.
A dark cloud forms as my worry takes over. “You can talk to me about anything, Lainey. You know I’m here to listen.” Even if the idea of you leaving makes me nauseous.
“I know, I just… I guess I’ve felt so lost since New York, and I wanted something more. At least, I thought I did. I could be making a huge mistake, but…I’m excited.”
Her pitch kicks up at the end and her excitement makes me smile. “If something makes you that happy, it can’t be a mistake,” I say, refusing to acknowledge the uncomfortable feeling in my chest.
“I really hope so,” Lainey whispers. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
“What? Why?”
“I…” she trails off and I almost interrupt until she continues. “I don’t know, but it feels like something you should know.”
The feeling in my chest worsens but like everything else, I push it away. Considering we haven’t spoken about anything overly personal since the night at the Ball House, it makes sense that she didn’t mention it, and I can’t fault her for that. But I’m glad that I know now.
“We’ve got a few months yet,” I say with a lift in my voice. “Better make the most of it, but I’m curious. Is that why you called?”
“What?”
“I know something’s on your mind. This isn’t a one-way street. I meant what I said. I’m here for you.”
Lainey blows out a breath before falling silent, and my mind races with what she might say.
“It’s been a long week, but I promise I feel better now. I guess you make me feel better.”
The smile in her voice sounds genuine, and since I know what she means by that, and feel exactly the same, I don’t push the issue, but at some point, I hope she confides in me. I may not be able to help, but if we can get her to a place where she leaves for her trip with less on her mind, it wouldn’t be a bad thing.
New York scores a touchdown in the dying seconds of our playoff game, and I drop to the ground along with every one of my teammates. The next hour is a blur of condolences and media commitments before we’re finally dismissed from our hell.
But I don’t move.
I can’t.
We almost made the Super Bowl in my first year as a pro. Thankfully, Colton returned and we made it to the conference championship. The guys played an amazing game, but just like when I was the starting quarterback, we lost in the final moments, and instead of feeling pride for how far we’ve come, I feel like I’ve once again failed and I didn’t even play.
As the room clears out, I smile at those passing by, but it’s all a ruse. In reality, I’m sitting here pretending I’m not about to lose one of the only things keeping me sane with football ending for another season. Especially knowing that in a few months, I’ll lose the other.
A strange silence fills the air, and I almost breathe out a sigh of relief until a presence appears beside me.
“I’m guessing we won’t be seeing you out tonight,” Adam says, as he sits next to me on the bench. I lift my gaze from where I’ve been staring at the floor and force a smile before shaking my head.
“Not tonight. I don’t really feel like celebrating.”
“Why the hell not?” he snaps uncharacteristically, but when I furrow my brow, he laughs. “What I mean is…we almost made the Super Bowl. In our rookie year. How can we not celebrate?”
“Because we didn’t make it.”
“We were still goddamn amazing.”
I stare at him for a moment, giving him nothing, but his smile never wavers. And it’s then that I realize I’ve been a dick to him these past couple of months. “You know what? Let’s go out. Let’s celebrate. You should be proud of your first season.”
“As should you.”
While I appreciate his words, I’m not sure I believe them. My head hasn’t been in it as much as it should be. But I have time to change that. I just have to sort my shit out.
Adam has a car waiting for us when we exit the building, and within fifteen minutes, we’re pulling up at an exclusive club in the city.
My phone burns a hole in my pocket as I stare out the window, my hand itching to reach in and pull it out. To call Lainey. But she told me she’d be working, and I shouldn’t have to call her every time I have a shitty moment. Even if I want to.
When we walk inside, we’re immediately taken to a roped-off area for the team, and while I’m not in the mood to commiserate with anyone, the noise and chaos relax me. It’s been weeks since I went out, and when the first drink is placed in my hand, I realize I’ve missed it. Drinking alone isn’t nearly as fun.
The electric beat intensifies as I sink back into my seat, closing my eyes, letting the cool liquid numb my body as it coats my throat. This is what I needed—loud music, sick beats, and alcohol. It’s the perfect combination to wash the world away.
“Who’s up for a dance?” my teammate Ryker says as he waltzes into our VIP area, a group of women following behind him. Nine times out of ten, I consider him a dick, but right now, he’s giving me the best idea I’ve heard in a while.
As a mass, we move toward the dance floor, parting the crowd like the Red Sea, collecting glances as we pass by.
One of my teammates slips a new drink into my hand barely seconds after I’ve finished the last, and I give him a nod, immediately raising it to my lips.
This. Is. The. Life. At least, it should be.
A remix of “Starboy” by The Weeknd and Daft Punk comes on, and I sing along as I glide through the bodies on the dance floor, my hands in the air. Letting go. Keeping myself in the moment, forgetting the rest.
We find a spot among the crowd, and I haven’t even had a chance to shake my ass when a petite blonde shimmies against me, her hand gripping my waist as she lifts to her toes. I turn my head, assuming she wants to speak in my ear, but she grabs my chin in her other hand, spinning me to look her way, her face dangerously close to mine.
“Woah,” I jump back, maneuvering myself so I don’t spill my drink. “What are you doing?” I yell over the music.
The woman startles but recovers quickly, her face lighting up with a smile. “I wanted to ask you to dance,” she yells back. “But I’m open to more.” She walks her fingers up my chest, and I spring back again. My face involuntarily scrunches, disgusted at the very idea, until I really process my reaction, my eyes widening as reality hits me.
The woman laughs as my brows furrow, taking advantage of my confusion, grabbing my hand before leading me across the floor.
When the volume softens and we’re away from the crowd, she comes to a stop, pushing me onto a bench seat, her legs apart as she stands, straddling me. She leans forward, and her dress pulls so tight, it looks more like a second skin, and I swear I can see everything beneath the material.
“I’m a huge fan,” she says, drawing my attention, holding her gaze until I finally look at her. “I know you’ve had a rough day. Let me take your mind off it.”
She moves to lower herself on top of me but my arms shoot out, grabbing her waist to still her. “I appreciate the concern,” I say, shifting her to the side. “But not tonight. I’m here with my team.”
Her eyes widen before she pouts, and I even question myself. While I don’t necessarily have a type anymore, if I was in the mood, she wouldn’t have to ask twice. And yet, right now, I’m not feeling it. I don’t want anyone here.
The woman stares at me until I smile apologetically, and I’m thankful when she backs away, not making me have to explain myself when I don’t really know what to say.
I don’t move as she departs, and when I’m completely alone, a feeling of acceptance comes over me. I don’t want to be here at all. I’ve been kidding myself, thinking this will work, but I know what will and I’m going to get it.
Icall Lainey as I stumble out of the club, not even waiting for the noise to die out around me. Her phone rings for a lifetime before finally sending me to voicemail, and I leave a message before hanging up and calling her right back.
When she doesn’t answer on my third try, I search her contact, making sure it’s not some error in my recent calls list. Only when I find LLS, Luke’s details taunt me at the bottom of the screen.
Luke, Luke. Fucking Luke. I should call him to give him a piece of my mind. To ask why he was so against us. Why he wouldn’t let us be all those years ago—maybe life would have turned out differently. Not that he ever knew about me and Lainey, but it’s the principle of the matter.
My finger hovers over his contact, determination set in my brow, but at the last second I call Lainey again. She’s a much better option.
This time when she doesn’t answer, I curse the world and toss my phone into a nearby bush only to dive in after it, my heart racing in a panic as I scrounge around until I have it in my hand.
I’ve just shaken the leaves from my hair when a delicate grip curls around my forearm and I’m spun in a daze.
“Thomas Kelly?” the woman asks, but I shake my head, wishing I was someone else. “I’m—”
“I’m sorry, I’m not interested.” I cut her off as I turn away, cringing when I jam my elbow into the balcony railing. I just want to talk to Lainey.
“But—”
“Look.” I spin back around and stumble, grabbing a branch for balance. “Look,” I repeat. “You’re very beautiful, but not tonight. Not—”
Covering my mouth with her hand, the woman holds up a finger to silence me and waits as my eyes widen. I give her a quick nod, and she sighs before removing her hand. “Sorry about that, but it was necessary. I’m your Uber driver, Bec. And I have no interest in whatever it is you think I’m asking for.”
“My Uber driver, Bec?” Jesus. When did I order an Uber? I eye her suspiciously, and she bursts out laughing, confusing me even more.
“A guy named Adam ordered it for you. Get in the car.”
Of course, Adam would do that. Always my savior. I really should be nicer to the guy. I’ve fucked up enough of my relationships.
I pat my back pocket for my wallet, and when I find it, I shrug and follow the stranger to her car. I wanted to leave, so if I think about it, this is actually quite convenient.
We start the drive in silence, but like always, the silence gets to me and I can’t handle it anymore. “Have you ever hated yourself?” I ask, leaning forward until the belt locks, making me jolt.
Bec’s eyes find mine in the mirror before her brow furrows. “Excuse me?”
“Simple question, really…” I readjust the strap currently halting my movement. “Have you ever done something that made you hate yourself?”
I’m not paying much attention, but when Bec sighs, I look her way as she says, “all the time,” making me pout in sadness.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to be a downer. I just needed to fill the silence.”
“So you ask if I hate myself?” she laughs.
“Why not?”
“Do you hate yourself?” she counters, her face alight with amusement.
My brows crease as I roll her question around my mind. “That’s kind of personal, don’t you think?”
Bec bursts out laughing again, before shaking her head. “You’re right. How very intrusive of me.”
It is intrusive, but also not, because I did just ask that question myself. “I do,” I say honestly and it’s kind of freeing. “But if you tell anyone, I’ll deny it.”
She continues to laugh as though I’m joking, so I join in on her fun, but when she drops me off and I walk into my barren hotel room, my mood shifts and the emptiness takes over.
I’m on edge, I’m shaky, and I have this nervous energy running through me that I need to quell. My eyes bounce between my phone and the minibar. But since I can’t call Lainey again, my decision is made for me and I grab myself a drink. Looks like the bar is my friend for tonight.