6. Team Tessa
6
Riggs
Well, shit.
I know my first face-to-face with Tessa could’ve gone a lot worse, but it sure as hell could’ve gone a lot better. I guess that answers my question as to whether or not she’s still holding a grudge against me. Fuck, she doesn’t even know I was only trying to protect her. That what started out as a mission to stop that douchebag Hollis from playing her turned into so much more for me.
Would it make a difference if she knew? I’m not so sure. She’s carried this anger over my supposed betrayal for so long now, there may be no getting past it.
And why hasn’t she gotten over it? Hell, we were nothing but a couple of kids back then. We’re both adults now, and with more than a decade of additional life experience under our belts, we should be able to laugh about it and move on…right?
Apparently not.
I lean against the side of my truck, staring across the street at the entrance to Beans & Books like I expect her to chase after me. But she doesn’t. What did I expect to happen, moving back to Sublime and buying the house next door to her? That we’d let bygones be bygones and pick up right where we left off?
I don’t even know her, anymore. I don’t know who she’s become or how life has changed her. She was a sweet, slightly introverted girl when I made that bet, but now she’s a grown woman. A successful business owner. She’s made a home and a life for herself, carving out her niche in the community while I took off to chase fame and fortune.
“Hey! Riggs! Hey!”
I look toward the voice and see a woman hurrying my way. I swallow my sigh and plaster a welcoming smile on my face. I’m not in the mood for this, but it’s part of the package when you’re famous.
“Can I get your autograph for my son? He just loves you so much.”
“Of course,” I say, my smile feeling a bit more natural as I accept the pad of paper and pen she holds out to me.
I love my young fans. Kids with dreams like the ones I had growing up. Knowing I’m to them what the superstars of yesterday were to me makes me feel all warm and sappy inside. Like I’m making a difference.
“Who should I make it out to?” I ask.
“Oh, uh…Rachel?”
I arch a brow. “Your son’s name is Rachel?”
“Yeah,” she says, nodding her head violently before a nervous laugh bursts through her lips. “It’s an old family name.”
“Okay,” I say slowly, drawing the word out in a way that leaves no question as to whether or not I believe her. “Dear Rachel,––”
“You’re so hot,” she says, cutting me off.
“Excuse me?” I ask.
“Write that,” she says swiftly. “Dear Rachel, you’re so hot.”
“That’s a little inappropriate for a…how old is he?”
“Ten,” she answers quickly, then waves a hand. “It’ll be fine. Sign it, Love, Riggs.”
I blow out a breath and write what she asked, then hand her the pad and pen back with a tight smile. She hops from foot to foot and squeals before whipping her phone out. She squeezes in close to me, and I smile at the camera even though she didn’t ask if I’d take a photo with her.
It’s all part of the package.
When she squeals again and rushes off, I turn my attention back to Tessa’s coffee shop. I watch customers go in and come back out, but there’s no sign of the woman I want to see. Then movement at the corner of the building catches my eye, and I see a familiar face.
“Skye,” I call out, waving a hand in the air to get her attention.
Skye Barton was in my graduating class, and while we ran in different circles, we did have a few classes together. Her steps stutter, and she pushes her long dark hair over one shoulder as she peers around. I wave and call her name again, and I see her shoulders stiffen as her gaze finds me. She lifts a hand in the air to wave, then twists her hand around, giving me the middle finger salute before stomping into Tessa’s shop.
“Shit,” I mutter.
I guess Skye is firmly on Team Tessa. A line has been drawn in the sand, and I’m stuck on the other side whether I like it or not.
Fine. If Tessa wants to cling tightly to her grudge against me, then there’s nothing I can do about it. At least, not right now.
Maybe with time she and her friends will realize I’m not the bad guy here. Maybe one day, she’ll even let me explain what happened back then. But today is not that day, and I have to accept it.
Heaving a sigh, I turn and climb into my truck. I need to stop by the grocery store to pick up a few things before I head home. Maybe I’ll grab a six pack of beer and invite Miles over. I need a distraction, and he’s the perfect man for the job.
“She refused to even talk to you?” Miles asks, twisting the top off his second beer.
We’re sitting on the couch in our sweats, a funny movie playing on the television though neither of us is really watching it. We’re limiting ourselves to three beers each, so we’re nursing them to make them last. Training camp starts in a few weeks, and we both need to be in tip-top shape when we report to our new coaching staff.
“She didn’t say a word until I made a snide comment about her customer service,” I say, feeling my cheeks heat a bit at the admission of my rudeness.
“What did she say?”
“She said she bets I could find my coffee somewhere else.”
“What does that mean?” he asks when I place significant emphasis on the word. “What went down between you two? You told me she hates you for something stupid you did in high school, but you never said what that was.”
I inhale deeply, and blow the breath out through my mouth before taking another sip of my beer. I mumble the words through tight lips, and Miles cocks his head while giving me a pointed look.
Heaving another sigh, I repeat myself, louder this time. “I made a bet with a teammate that I could take her virginity.”
Miles stares at me with wide eyes as his mouth falls open. His eyes fill with disappointment and even a little disillusionment, and I can’t fucking take it.
“There’s more to the story,” I say quickly. “A lot more.”
“I’d like to hear it. Please tell me before I punch you in the throat, myself.”
I explain it all to him. Grady Hollis and his dickish agenda. My attempt to dissuade him, and how I ended up making that godforsaken bet to protect Tessa and all the other girls at school. By the time I finish, Miles’ disgust has vanished, and he looks thoughtful.
“And Tessa doesn’t know any of this?” he asks finally.
“She refused to hear me out back then, and well, I told you how it went today.”
“Damn,” he says, his body relaxing.
“I could’ve done things differently. I should’ve. But at the time, I didn’t think I had any other option. And do you want to know the worst part?”
He nods, and I blow out a frustrated breath.
“The worst part is that I actually fell for her. Our relationship was real to me, even though it started because of the bet. When she found out and lit me up, I was devastated.”
“And how do you feel about her now?” he asks, and the corners of my mouth quirk up.
Miles Blake may be a strong, intense defensive back on the field, but deep down inside, he’s a big, fluffy cinnamon roll, all gooey and sweet. He’s an empath, and never shies away from talking about feelings and emotions.
“Honestly? I don’t know. She’s still gorgeous, even more so than she was in high school. But I don’t know her, anymore. And as of right now, it looks like I may not get to know her again.”
“But you want to?” he asks.
I pause, rolling the question through my mind for a moment before giving him a firm nod. “I do.”
“Then you’ll find a way, brother,” he says, reaching out to slap my shoulder. “You always find a way.”