Chapter 24 #3
“I was a freshman and I was already starting and setting records. All the things I’d dreamt about were coming true, and my dad, of all people, was the person trying to ruin it.
” Hurt twists across his handsome face like this happened yesterday and not almost fifteen years ago.
“Looking back, all I had to do was keep my head down and focus on the end goal. Play ball like I always had and let the pieces fall into place. But I was young and stupid and had way too much fucking pride for my own good. I wanted to prove I didn’t need him and that I was better off without him. ”
I go still and my lungs turn to ice. I don’t know what comes next, but I know it’s not good.
“These schools make millions off our names. They were selling jerseys with my name on the back and leveraging my name to bring in more donations while I was sitting there, trying to figure out if I could afford groceries. What I did might’ve been against the rules, but if you ask me, the rules were bullshit.
” It doesn’t matter that this happened years ago; it still affects him today.
Fire laces his words, and frustration colors his tone.
“So when someone approached me with an opportunity, I didn’t hesitate before saying yes. ”
“What was the opportunity?” I ask, but I don’t need to know the answer to know whatever it was brought more strife than anything else.
“They gave me some things to sign. It started with some jerseys and footballs for a few hundred dollars,” he says, and it sounds innocent enough.
“The more they sent, the more I signed, the more I made. Then, the bigger my name became, the more they wanted. It wasn’t long until they were flying me out during the offseason, putting me in hotel suites, and paying me more money than I could’ve imagined at twenty.
And all I had to do was sign autographs and shake some hands. ”
Call me an idiot, but I don’t see the problem here. If schools can make so much money off their athletes, then shouldn’t they be able to profit from their work as well? “That wasn’t allowed?”
He shakes his head. “Not even a little bit.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“It was,” he says. “And what sucked even more was that an agent who was interested in representing me fed into it. He loaned me a car after I gave mine back to my dad and would fly Silas and Ciara to all my away games. He gave me all sorts of things I never asked for, but was too young and naive to refuse, and then, the moment I decided to go with another agent, he reported me to the NCAA and tanked my entire career. I lost my scholarship, we had our wins and championship titles revoked, and even though I was slated to go in the first round of the draft, I ended up not going at all.”
I try to swallow down my horrified gasp, but I fail miserably. I feel like I want to throw up, cry, and punch something all at the same time.
“Holy shit,” I whisper, unable to come up with anything even slightly eloquent to say. “That’s so fucked-up, Tate.”
If I ever find that agent, I’ll…Well, I don’t know what I’ll do yet, but I do know I’ll spend every night of the foreseeable future plotting my revenge.
“It was a long time ago.” He echoes the same adage I use whenever I talk about my dad.
“It was horrible when it happened, and then when I came home, it was worse. My dad still wasn’t speaking to me, and I was this town screwup who everyone thought threw away their family for fame.
Then, as the icing on the shit cake, a rumor started going around that Silas was the one who turned me in.
I knew it wasn’t true, but it doesn’t mean that didn’t add to the already fucked-up dynamics we had. ”
I think about how bad things got between me and my mom. The thought of people knowing and then making up stories to add to it is almost too much to bear.
“You didn’t deserve that. Neither of you did.”
“Silas didn’t,” he says. “Still not sure about me.”
Silas and Tate are such good men, and my time in Celestial wouldn’t be the same without them. I hate that they lost so many years together. I hate even more that Tate has been walking around with this cloud of shame hanging over him.
“No, do not do that.” I turn to face him fully. “That rule was stupid, and even if it wasn’t, nothing you did was worth a lifetime of punishment. You were a kid who did something you came to regret? So have ninety-nine percent of people. Big freaking whoop.”
He tries to look away, but I’m done with it.
I’m done with us hiding from each other.
I’m done pretending I don’t want Tate to know me inside and out.
I’m done pretending I haven’t thought about his mouth on mine every single moment since the first time he kissed me.
I’m done pretending I don’t dream about his hands on me and what it would feel like to explore every square inch of Tate Jacobs and have him do the same to me.
“Look at me.” I pull my hand from his and climb onto his lap. “We all make mistakes, and do you know what?”
I take his face in my hands and stare into his eyes that hold more mystery and magic than the night skies above.
“What?” His voice is quiet, timid even. The softness at direct odds with the growing hardness beneath me.
“Knowing you’re not completely perfect only makes me like you more.”
His mouth tips up in the corner, smugness somehow making him even hotter as his hands find my hips. “You like me?”
My mouth draws closer to his as I whisper, “A little bit.”
“Interesting,” he says. “Because I like you a lot.”
I shift my hips over him, and my breathing turns into a moan.
“Oh, thank god. I feel the exact same way.” I graze my lips against his. “What do you think about moving this party to my room?”
“I couldn’t think of anything better.”
And then, before I even know what’s happening, I’m in Tate’s arms and my house flies by in a blur as he runs through my living room and up the stairs. He kicks in my door with so much force, I think he might have to add replacing it to his to-do list…
Right after me.