38. Chapter 38
Chapter 38
LANE
Though Tuesday got off to a rough start, the next couple of days fly by despite barely having any time to see Teagan. So I’m particularly thrilled when he enters the basement of Wyndham Hall where I’ve begun working on the team’s practice gear.
After the perfect night we spent together, I’ve been dying to see him again, and the few stolen moments we’ve had between classes aren’t enough. With only a month left in the semester, schoolwork is ramping up and deadlines are approaching, which means he’s taking advantage of any spare time he has to catch up with assignments while my nights have been busy picking out renovation materials for the lake house.
Everything in my life seems to be coming together, and I can’t help but step back in the rare quiet moments and look at my life in awe. It’s like all at once, my dreams have been answered. Dreams I didn’t dare to wish for, like falling in love.
Scratch that.
Because I’ve already fallen.
I am completely and hopelessly in love with him, and he loves me.
I hadn’t planned on telling him so soon but I couldn’t help myself, and my heart squeezes every time I think about hearing him say those words.
“Hey, stranger.” I turn to him with a smile and sigh as he pulls me close, then cups my face in his hands and leans into me, thighs touching, heart pounding in tune with mine. He brushes a soft kiss against my mouth. That’s one of the things I love about Teagan; he kisses with his whole body, not just his lips.
Butterflies awaken, floating through my chest even as he takes a step back and says “hey” in a tone that sounds off.
“Big game this weekend,” I say, wondering if that’s what’s weighing on his mind.
Teagan exhales, releasing a fraction of the tension I see in his face. “Yeah. Florida State. It’s gonna be a tough one.”
“You’ll win. I know it.”
He nods and the muscle in his jaw flickers before he asks, “You’ll be there?”
“It’s a home game, so I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I smile back at him, but his throat bobs, and I wonder if he’s nervous about something else or if it really is just the game.
“Can I ask you something?”
My brows rise but instead of meeting my eyes, he avoids my gaze and steps forward, taking one of the jerseys I finished scrubbing to wring it out. “Sure,” I say, ignoring the uneasy feeling fisting at the base of my spine.
“You said Sophie’s dad isn’t in the picture, right?”
I stiffen and my defenses rise like a drawbridge over water. “I think you’ve been around enough to know that for a fact.”
“Yeah,” he says, but his tone and the way he chews his lower lip tells he’s not convinced. “Do you ever see him anymore or talk to him?”
Ice chinks in my veins as I try to wrap my head around the sudden line of questioning and the timing of it all when it’s the one topic I told him was off-limits.
“Why are you asking now? What is this really about, Teagan?”
He leans forward, gripping the edge of the plastic wash bin while the muscles in his arms and back flex. “I just . . .” He trails off, lifting his head and finally turning to me. “I told you early on that the one thing I couldn’t take is you withholding the truth or lying to me about?”
“I’m not lying. He really isn’t a part of our lives.”
“Okay, but?”
“Do you think I’m lying?” My voice rises an octave, and the guilt swimming in my veins colors my cheeks. “Because if you do, I’d appreciate it if you just came right out and asked what you really want to know instead of beating around the bush, because I told you all of this already.”
“Fine.” His nostrils flare and he pushes his shoulders back as he asks, “Were you and Chance ever together?”
My heart flies into my throat and I swallow, trying to dislodge it.
I should tell him the truth. I know I should.
I love him.
I want him in my life, which means complete transparency. We can’t build a future off lies, but I can’t bring myself to form the words any more than I can change the truth, though God knows I wish I could.
“No,” I choke out.
I justify the lie by rationalizing. In reality, Chance and I never really were together. I spent the better part of a year after I found out I was pregnant coming to terms with the fact that what I thought we had was all a lie, a figment of my imagination, and a product of the fanciful whims of a teenager with a crush.
He stares at me for a long moment while I prepare for him to call my bluff, but he doesn’t. “Okay. And Sophie’s father is . . .”
“I already told you.” I throw the wet jersey in my hands onto the counter with a loud thwack, angry he won’t just let it drop even though I have zero right to be. “Just like I told you this was the one topic off-limits, my hard no. I won’t talk about him. He’s not a part of our lives, and that’s all anyone needs to know.”
Including you.
My unspoken words are louder than the ones coming from my mouth, and I hate myself for them.
Teagan grips at his hair, and the pain on his face is so acute, it makes my chest ache. “I can’t help but feel like there’s this giant shoe waiting to drop. Like there’s something I’m missing. Maybe I’m crazy to think Chance might have?”
“Yeah, you are.” I scoff.
Liar.
Lair.
Lair.
“It’s just that he’s been fucking with me, and the other day in your room, I saw a picture of the two of you and?”
I suck in a breath. “You were looking through my things?”
“I wasn’t snooping, if that’s what you’re asking. The box fell and everything spilled onto the floor. I was picking the photo albums up when I saw it.”
I should’ve burned any pictures I had of the two of us long ago. God, why didn’t I?
“You know he and my father are close. In high school, he was around a lot. We were friends once.”
He stares at me for a long moment. “You’re right,” he eventually says, running a hand over the back of his neck. My chest tightens. “But I guess I just don’t understand this need to keep the paternity a secret.” His gaze hardens when it returns to mine. “Did her father?did he force himself on you? Is that why?”
“No.” My mouth drops open in shock. “God, no. Nothing like that.” My hands ball into fists, fighting the tightening in my chest. “Looking back, I think he manipulated me, told me everything I wanted to hear, but he would never . . . He may be selfish, but he’s not that kind of man.”
“Then, what, Lane?” He steps forward, arms outstretched, tone pleading. “Help me understand why you can’t open up to me.” He reaches out and grabs my hand and places it on his chest, over his racing heart. “I’m the one person you should be able to trust the most, and I’ve never given you a reason to doubt me.”
“Because I just can’t,” I cry.
But God knows I want to.
And that should be enough. It should be that simple.
But somehow, it’s not.
I yank my hand away, unable to touch him any longer, afraid the guilt might kill me if I do.
My limbs shake with the flood of emotions running through my veins, and I begin to pace. I feel like a trapped animal, wounded and bleeding and scared. Unable to quell the strangling fingers gripping my lungs and strangling the air from them.
“I love you, Lane. And I love Sophie, too.”
His words strike like lightning.
It’s the second time he’s said them, but my heart jolts all the same because I love him, too. So much.
Yet I feel him slipping from my fingers. And I know how to hold on, but it’s like I can’t physically do it. I can’t give him the one thing he wants, the one thing he needs—the truth.
Instead, I convince myself that’s okay. He doesn’t need it. We can survive on lies if they’re well-intentioned.
“I love you too,” I say, my voice thick.
Tears prick at my eyes, and I shake my head as if that will shake them off. My gaze drifts to his mouth, those full lips I know so well.
He closes the gap between us, reaching me in two strides. One hand cups the back of my head while the other squeezes my waist as if he’s afraid of losing me even though I’m standing right here.
He dips his head, pressing his forehead to mine.
I hear the shallow sound of his breath, his audible swallow. “Say it again, Lane? Please.”
“I love you.” I breathe.
I’d say it a million times over if he asked.
This I can give him.
This one truth I can share.
“I love you, Teagan. I love you so much it hurts. Why can’t that be enough?”
He sucks in a breath and releases me, scrubbing a hand over his face. When his eyes return to mine, the pain in them is so sharp I feel it lance through me like a knife. “Are you ever gonna tell me?”
My heart lurches.
Fear bubbles inside me, warring with my anger as we stand there, locked in each other’s eyes. Both of us battering rams with our horns locked.
“I told you in the beginning. You knew this topic was off-limits.” I cross my arms over my chest as if I can protect my heart from the blow I know is coming. “And you agreed. It’s unfair of you to push me now when you understood from the start.”
“I know. You’re right. But feelings change.” His shoulders slump, whether in defeat or resignation, I’m not sure. “And I guess I just don’t understand why you’re protecting him.”
“I’m not protecting him,” I snap.
I’m protecting someone else—my father.
And I owe my parents everything.
“Well, you’re protecting someone, and if it’s not him then it’s yourself, which means you don’t trust me. I’ve done nothing but lay my heart on the line since I met you, proven myself to you over and over, but you still don’t trust me.”
He takes another step back in retreat, his blue eyes wet with emotion.
As selfish as it is, all I want is for him to wrap his arms around me and tell me that it’s okay. That he doesn’t need to know. That I can keep this one thing and he’ll still love me.
“It’s not that simple,” I say, desperate for him to stay.
He lets out a shaky breath and averts his gaze. “See that’s the thing,” he replies. “It really is.” And then he walks away.