Chapter 2
FLIP
Shock leaves me speechless for a moment.
I have done everything in my power to never think of Tallulah Vander Zee outside the neat, perfect little box labeled Friend and Forever and for All Eternity Off-Limits.
Despite her being an independent, intelligent, talented, and beautiful woman, I have carefully avoided all landmines that might lead me to think of her in any way that would make her father, my coach, want to bludgeon me with my hockey stick.
I have stopped myself from chasing off other men. I have stood by while Tally has dated idiots, and silently cheered when she realized she could do better. Which was every single time. None of those guys have been good enough for her.
I have not been possessive. Protective, yes, but I have kept my fucking mouth shut even when I haven’t wanted to. Especially when I haven’t wanted to.
So what the hell am I supposed to do when every wrong thing I’ve tried valiantly, mostly successfully, not to want over the past six months falls into my lap, gift wrapped with a pretty bow?
Definitely not unwrap it and play with it every fucking day for the rest of my short life—because surely, I’d be dead, and her father would be in prison.
The image of her gift wrapped just for me pops into my depraved mind unbidden.
I beat back that fantasy with a fucking weed whacker.
But it’s like a dandelion, growing and duplicating faster than I can mow them down.
I don’t know what my expression must be, but Tally squares her shoulders and lifts her delicate chin. Her eyes are alight with so many emotions: determination, conviction, and most, dangerously desire, that echoes through me. The emotion that cuts me off at the knees, though, is hope.
“I’m so sick of university boys and their single-minded incompetence,” she explains.
I can’t disagree there. The guys I went to university with were pretty damn clueless, and I doubt much has changed.
We were all hormones with our brains stuck in our dicks.
Still, I keep my mouth shut, trying to figure out how to let her down gently.
Because what she’s offering, what she’s asking…
that’s a place I should never want to go.
Based on the scenarios suddenly clogging my brain, I do want to go there, badly.
This is what I get for being celibate for almost two fucking years.
“I don’t want to have a shitty first time with some guy who only wants to fuck me because I’m the Terror coach’s daughter,” she continues, making yet another frustratingly valid point.
I’m aware that this has been a problem for her, in part because of her father and her university friend group. Not to mention the fact that she hangs out with all of us. I’ve spent years watching out for her, she’s become a friend, someone I enjoy being around. “Talls, I—”
She cuts me off. “I want my first time to be good, something to remember because I enjoyed it.”
I open my mouth to say something wise, something other than, “Let’s have this conversation at my place, in my bed.”
But Tally pushes on, her face growing redder with every word that tumbles from her soft, plush lips that I will not imagine kissing. Ever. “We’re friends, right?”
“Yeah, we’re friends, b—”
“Exactly,” she cuts me off again. “We’ve been friends for a long time.
You take care of people. It’s what you do.
You would take care of me. I want to have sex with someone who actually cares about me.
You’ll know exactly how to make me feel good.
” Her voice drops to a sultry whisper. “I mean, you might even make me come.”
The gut punch is swift and damning in so many ways.
And the unexpectedly vicious ache in my chest makes it hard to swallow.
My past steamrolls me with ruthless, yet entirely deserved force.
She doesn’t want me. She wants my experience.
Will I never get out from under the reputation I’ve built for myself?
Her fingers move to her lips, and her tone shifts, bordering on desperate as she steps closer, tipping her head up, eyes wide and imploring. “Please, Flip.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat, hating that for a moment I allowed myself to see her as something she can never be. “Your first time should be with someone you trust—”
Before I can continue, she makes a fresh slice on my already scarred heart.
“I do trust you. No one would have to know. It could be our secret,” she says.
“It probably has to be because of my dad, and our friends, and I wouldn’t want to make it weird.
But I know you. I’d be safe with you. And you can even teach me—whatever tricks you think I should know so I can make you feel good, too. ”
If ever there was a time I wanted to erase my past, it’s now.
The damage my ex, Fiona, did turned me into something I never wanted to be.
But here I am. That Tally views me this way is just…
devastating. It’s one thing for her to want this from me because I mean something to her, because she cares about me and she knows I care about her, too.
But to ask because of my extensive history as a fuckboy… It hurts in ways I didn’t anticipate.
Maybe because I knew she had a crush and I thought it had progressed beyond the infatuation.
Tallulah Vander Zee is the dream I’ve never dared to let myself have.
My voice is thick and guttural, but my tone is firm, with no room for argument.
“Your first time should be with some who loves you, and who you love back, Tally. And I can’t be that guy.
” I’ve spent the last decade hiding from love, fearing what could happen if I let someone in again.
Tally deserves someone who isn’t jaded and broken.
Her shoulders slump, and her eyes dart away for a moment.
When they return to mine, they’re full of frustration, defiance, and the same hurt I feel.
It’s like someone reached inside my chest and punctured my heart with a hundred poison-tipped knives.
“Please, Flip. It’s just this one favor I need help with. ”
I recoil, and then strike back. “You’re not asking me to hang a picture.” My teeth grind together. “You only get to have this experience once, with one person, and they can never give it back to you. It’s supposed to be special.”
“But we’ve known each other for years.” Her voice wavers, another stab to my heart. “You would make it special.”
I shake my head, desperate to erase the forbidden images trying to form in my mind.
In another world, where I wasn’t such a mess of a human, I would be so good to her.
But it would change everything, ruin our friendship in ways she doesn’t understand.
Our friends would be appalled. I would never forgive myself.
“I can’t.” I care about you. I can’t take something special that I haven’t earned.
How awful would I feel when she realized down the line that she’d given a precious part of herself to someone who for years had drowned in pleasure to avoid connection? Even if I could give her what she needs, it would be a huge emotional step backwards for me. “You’re… I can’t do that.”
Her eyes fill with tears, and her chin wobbles. “Anyone but me, right?”
My mouth falls open. That’s a jagged, raw wound I won’t recover from.
She skirts around me and rushes down the hall.
I want to go after her, to tell her she deserves better. I could explain that I can’t give her what she wants without losing a part of myself, but nothing I say will soften that blow. And she has no idea she’s ripped open a never-healed wound.
I stand in the hallway for a long time, letting the self-loathing seep in.
I deserve to feel this shitty. I’ve hurt people I care about with my past behavior, so this is retribution.
I spent my twenties avoiding anything with depth, and I won’t go back down that road.
Not for anyone, and especially not for my coach’s fucking daughter, who I care deeply about.
Maybe more than I realized based on the ache in my chest.
When I finally return to the living room, Tally is gone. Dred Grace, who knows me best in this crowd, gives me a questioning look as I sink into the couch. I feel awful for so many reasons. Especially when Hammer mentions how stressed Tally seemed before she left.
I search for the winter showcase at Tilton U. I might not be able to give Tally what she wants, but I can still show her that I care. “Who needs a ticket for Tally’s performance?”
“We have ours.” Hemi motions to the girls.
“You guys in?” I ask my teammates.
All the guys agree, so I secure our tickets.
Eventually everyone starts to disperse, and I follow my friends to the door.
“You okay?” my sister, Rix, asks as she pulls me in for a hug. “You seem preoccupied.”
“Yeah. All good. Just thinking about practice.” It’s not untrue. I keep thinking about how dead I’d be if I’d said yes to Tally’s request and Coach Vander Zee found out.
Dred, Connor, and I file into the hall and pile into the elevator. I live in the building down the street, while Dred and Connor live in a mansion his Meems owns on the edge of the city. They got married last fall.
“Up for a game of Battleship?” Dred asks as we make our descent.
It’s what we play when one of us needs to talk something out.
I glance between her and Connor. “Do you have time for that?”
She turns to Connor. “You’re okay to pick up Everly and Victor?”
Dred and Connor adopted teenage twins earlier this year. I’ve never seen her happier than when she’s with him and those kids. The twins were in foster care, just like Dred growing up, and she wanted them to have a home with stability and love.
“Of course, darling. We’ll go for cake, and Everly will convince me to take them shopping, where I’ll buy them something outlandishly impractical.”
“This is why you’re their favorite.”