Chapter 30
CHAPTER 30
LAW
I’ve texted Carlie a few times, testing the waters of what happened between us. Once her answer was, I need to be here for Caleb right now while I can. Meaning that she spent her time off with him, not me. Maybe it’s just that he’s really hurting and she wants to be there. Maybe it’s how she pushes me away.
I was harsh; I know that. But when I think of the way she looked at me because I didn’t tell her two little things, frustration boils inside me. I want to point out that the things Xavier didn’t tell her are big, bad things. Not telling her about Malcolm and Ivy wasn’t.
It doesn’t matter to her. I want to fix things, but I also need to know I can trust her to trust me. This won’t work if she doesn’t.
I want to be there for Ivy too, but that’s become more complicated than I expected. Unfair though it may be, the fact that she spilled her guts to Caleb and it backfired on me is undermining my sympathy for her. I know it’s my fault that I didn’t share the things I should have with Carlie. It’s just easier to blame Ivy.
Then there’s the fact that Malcolm is still at my house. He needs me too. I’ve overheard his end of some conversations with Mom. What he’s told me sounds like what she’s been saying to me all these years, but Malcolm doesn’t shut her down the way I have. Maybe because part of him wants it a little bit.
I have about six weeks before training camp starts with nothing to keep me in Houston. Before I met Carlie, I had planned to head back to Nashville as soon as this minicamp was over, but now I don’t want to leave Houston. But if Carlie doesn’t want me here, if there’s nothing here to save, should I take Malcolm home and help him figure this out? Get him out of Houston and away from Ivy’s vicinity? Is that how I can help them both? She left Nashville to stop running into him, to separate their social circles.
One problem at a time.
“Be straight with me,” I say to Malcolm on Tuesday. We’ve been hanging out for four days and haven’t had a deep conversation yet. Not about Ivy. Not about Mom. Not about why he up and left Nashville to get away. “Do you want to run for office?”
Malcolm leans his head back against the couch. We’ve been playing FootballPro, and I’ve been putting off saying something while we did, because it reminds me of the night I played with Chad and how he pushed off any attempt to talk about Shelby. And that, of course, leads me to think about Carlie and what she’s up to. Would she text me for help if she ends up in his bathtub again?
Or worse?
There’s not going to be a worse, I tell myself. Carlie has an excuse for her misguided concern for the girls. Chad is my friend. I believe in him.
“I don’t not want to,” Malcolm says warily. “That’s the problem. I like the idea of being a change maker like that. It’s probably some kind of genetic thing in our blood. But I also know the reality. We’ve lived with the reality since we were kids.”
“You know way better than me,” I point out. He’s been on Mom’s staff since he graduated law school three years ago, and really even before that. “Maybe you start out with something small. City council?” That’s not really that small, but in the scheme of national politics, it’s a place to start. Gabriella Duncan is gearing up to run for Houston city council next year.
He raises an eyebrow and turns toward me. “What’s one little sip gonna hurt?”
“If you think that once you get into it you won’t want out, maybe that’s the answer. If you’re going to fall in love with it, do it. Be the change maker.”
“Maybe I talk you into running because you’re not as stubborn as Mom, and I can mold you into what I want all while staying in the background. Best of both worlds.” He picks up his controller to start another game.
I snort. “Never gonna happen.”
We turn our attention to setting up our teams again. On my own, I’ve earned enough points to trade players. It’s flattering that it took more points than average to trade myself to another team. Then I surprise myself by choosing to spend those points putting game-me on the Pumas instead of the Blues. Does that mean I’m actually happy about it now, not just grateful for the chance to keep playing?
Or is it some kind of mental told-you-so? That not saying anything about it to Carlie isn’t actually a big deal?
“Are we ever going to talk about Ivy?” I ask once the game has started.
“What’s there to talk about?” Malcolm tilts to one side as he tries to avoid a tackle. “She’s your best friend, and she’s never going to be completely out of my life. It’s fine. Eventually, when we see each other, it won’t be a shock. We’ll get used to it.”
I purposefully let him run in a touchdown on his next play—seventy yards—and then turn to him. “Why didn’t you propose, Malcolm? You guys were crazy about each other. I haven’t seen you as happy without her as you were with her.”
Malcolm narrows his eyes. “Marry her? How could I marry her? I could never get around the fact that she’d dated you too.”
It’s too bad I wasn’t taking a sip of something, because this would be the perfect time to spray it all over him, sputtering, What the ? —
“Ivy told you we dated,” I force out. This is far worse than her telling Caleb everything about me. Did she tell him that too? Carlie was worried about that from day one, and Caleb reinforcing that with stories from Ivy will shatter any chance of fixing things between us. It won’t matter what I say. It will be a big lie to her, and I won’t be able to blame her for thinking the worst of me then.
Malcolm scowls at me. “No, but it’s obvious you guys did in college and probably after. You’re together all the time.”
Relief fills me first. So this didn’t come from Ivy. But frustration rises right back up. “Ivy and I have never dated. Never kissed. Never anything.”
Malcolm shakes his head. “You don’t have to lie to me for her, Law. Everything’s over for us.”
I level him with my best glare. “It has never been like that for us. No feelings. Nothing. I swear, Malcolm. I’m not just saying it to protect your feelings or something. It’s true.”
He still stares at me. “No way.” But his tone is filled with disbelief more than anything.
“I don’t know how to make you believe me—maybe just beg you to trust me. Nothing has ever happened between me and Ivy, and nothing ever will.”
He turns back to the game, lifting his controller and refusing to look at me. I don’t know if he believes me. I don’t know if he wants to believe me. It might mean that he threw away the best thing in his life because he made a horrible assumption. There has to be more to it than that, but the way his face has paled makes me wonder if that was the biggest reason—that he couldn’t bring himself to marry someone he thought I’d dated. Even if he loved her more than anything.
I don’t press for more. It’s the first time he’s talked about Ivy since their breakup, and I might have handed him more than he can handle.
I check my phone, hoping for a text from Carlie asking me to come talk. Can’t Jenna take over some of the sisterly comforting? From what Carlie has said, she’s spending a lot of time on the GetAwayHome that she needs to get guests into ASAP, but can’t she spare a night for her brother?
Probably. But I’m guessing Carlie has her reasons for making sure that it’s her.