Chapter 44
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Jif drew circles in the condensation left by her lemonade on the glass-top table.
It was almost gone, and still Colton hadn’t arrived.
She’d leave, but she didn’t really have anywhere else to go.
It’d been a week since she’d heard from Miles, and he hadn’t reached out, hadn’t returned any of her calls.
Colton had asked to meet her several times, but she’d put it off, the devastation of Miles’s rejection still too heavy to bear. Too bad she couldn’t take sick days for a broken heart.
Finally, he’d told her he couldn’t put it off anymore. She vaguely remembered him trying to tell her something the night of the gala, but they’d been busy hosting—and then she’d left early to check on Miles.
“Hey,” Colton plopped into the chair across from her. “Sorry, I’m late. I was...busy.”
“Busy,” Jif repeated, swirling a loop around the circle she’d drawn, a mandala evaporating even as she created it. Ephemeral. Like everything in her life. Nothing lasted.
Colton ordered a sweet tea, then sat back in his seat. “You okay? You look...”
“Don’t say it,” Jif growled at her brother.
He blinked at her.
“Sorry.”
His sweet tea arrived, and he took a long swallow before leaning his elbows on the table. Grace would scold him for it, but it would be good-natured, as if he were a naughty child instead of a full-grown man. “Well, I guess I should get this out of the way.”
Jif rolled her eyes.
So dramatic.
“I’ve been traded.”
Jif’s finger skidded to a halt with a shuddering vibration.
Her gaze darted to his and, for the first time, she noticed the deep bags under her brother’s eyes, his pale skin, and the perpetual frown she’d always assumed he reserved for her.
But, as he took a deep breath, the cracks in his facade splintered across his face, weighing his shoulders and stooping his posture.
“What?”
“To San Francisco. For Reynolds.”
Jif swallowed hard. “Blake Reynolds? I’d heard...”
“Just think,” Colton interrupted her. “Another receiver for you to notch your bedpost with. And no big brother to play the overprotective parent, either. Not sure me plus a second-round draft pick will tell you much about his prowess, but the Raptors think that’s what he’s worth.”
Jif reeled back at his words, aghast. He’d never been quite so crass, though he hadn’t exactly made a secret about what he thought of her dating his teammates. Anger flooded in on the heels of her shock.
“Don’t be a pig,” she snapped.
“Whatever,” Colton retorted, a truly brotherly response straight out of their childhood.
Jif closed her eyes, forcing a breath into her lungs, then sipped her lemonade.
Miles, too, had lashed out in his hurt.
I can handle this.
Her brother loved the Raptors. If they’d traded him away—and for Blake Reynolds, the troublemaking, smart-mouthed receiver from the Niners—he had to be hurting.
“What about mom?”
“I told her already. She’s going to stay here, but I opened a trust fund for her. She’ll be fine.”
“She’ll miss you.”
“She can come visit any time.”
“And me?” Jif prompted.
Colton frowned. “What, one team isn’t enough for you?”
This time, her gasp of shock drew the glances of several people at the tables around them.
“Oops, sorry, forgot. You have a boyfriend, now.”
Jif ground her teeth together, gritting out, “You can be a real jerk sometimes.”
“I’m the jerk?” he retorted.
“Yeah, you are.” She’d had a week to think about all the things she should have said to Miles, a week to sit with her hurt and how quickly he’d abandoned her when things got tough.
Maybe Colton wasn’t Miles, but if he pushed her away, too, she’d fight back this time.
“You’re going to up and leave us? Like he did? Is this the kind of person you are?”
Colton leaned across the table and shot back, “I have done nothing but take care of you and Mom since the day the Raptors drafted me. You’re the one who’s been too selfish to appreciate all the sacrifices I’ve made for both of you.
The extra practices so they wouldn’t cut me.
The salary negotiations that probably are the reason I’m being traded away, now. ”
He sat back, chest heaving. “I opened a trust fund for you, too. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but you’ll be fine here.
You can marry Miles, whether he’s working or not, or pick some other unsuspecting player.
Avoid Reynolds, though. He’s already got two domestic violence suits against him back in California. Another Corey.”
He shook his head, disgust rippling across his features.
“Oh, thanks for caring so much about me, big brother. Enough to tell me who to avoid when you’re gone, but not enough to tell me you’re leaving. How long has Mom known?”
“All along,” he admitted. “I told her when they first started nosing around for someone to trade. The salary in San Francisco is good. Better than here, actually, and I only have so many years left to play. I have to make enough money to get me through whatever comes next, after football, because my career won’t last forever.
I want a wife and a family. I don’t want to spend my whole life taking care of you and Mom. You have to grow up eventually.”
“Yeah, stupid Jif, too dumb to understand how the world works, always needing someone to take care of her, right?” She frowned, the words flowing bitterly from her mouth. “Shallow, childish, selfish...”
“Your words, not mine,” Colton replied, crossing his arms.
Jif’s mouth dropped open. Somehow, she’d always assumed the tension between her and Colton fed out of the kind of sibling rivalry they’d had as children. He might hate her dating his teammates, but as an adult who could make her own decisions, she didn’t need Colton to like those choices.
This contempt, though, she’d never experienced before. Too much resentment had built up between them. Too many unspoken things. Things she’d never understood, not because she hadn’t wanted to, but because he’d never told her.
And now, too late for her to change, he threw his deliberately hurtful words, her ignorance, and his anger in her face.
I guess he really is our father’s son.
No, Colton loved her. He’d taken care of her. He may not like her dating his teammates, but he’d never abandon her.
At least, she’d thought he’d never abandon her. Like Miles. Now...
“So, you’re moving to San Francisco, leaving us behind, and making a new life? Some grand plan!”
No wonder a gaping, empty chasm ripped across the crack already in her heart, tectonic plates tearing her apart from within as he tore them apart from without.
“Fine, then. Go.” She swiped tears from her eyes before they could fall, slapped a few bills down on the table, and stood. “See if I care.”
Turning on her heel, she ran from the restaurant.