Chapter 43
FORTY-THREE
olivia
Sophie: How were the hotel room escapades?
Me: Umm.
Sophie: Come on, you’re always so good with all the morning-after details.
Me: I don’t know, I guess I feel protective of him.
Sophie: Livvie!!!!!!!!!!!!
Me: Don’t say it…
Sophie: I don’t need to.
Yeah. I loved many things about my best friend. But right now, I wished she were a wee bit less perceptive. Might as well rip the band-aid off now.
Me: He brought Cooper to the ballpark to practice.
My phone rang, and Sophie was finished fucking around with texting.
“Liv—”
“Don’t say it.”
“You need to hear it. You keep acting like this is just fun and sex only. But the man is showing up for you guys. He’s at the goddamn ballpark playing baseball with Cooper.”
“He’s also a friend. He’s living in my house. Of course, he’ll develop a relationship with Coop. I mean, Coop is pretty damn awesome.”
Her loud sigh practically screamed in my ear. “What nineteen-year-old—”
“He’ll be twenty.”
“I hope you can hear my fucking eye roll. But what twenty-year-old spends his morning with his family friend’s kid? And I need you to be honest. Why was it so important for you to clarify his age?”
“Ugh—”
“Ugh—what?” she asked, not backing down.
“I have feelings for him, Sophie. Big, scary fucking feelings. And I can’t help thinking about how much it’s going to hurt when I need to set him free.”
“Why do you always go there?”
“Where?”
“To the place where it ends? To the part in the story where you’re the one broken and left behind?”
“Because that’s the only way this story can end.”
“Stop. Stop trying to keep people out because you’re afraid of getting hurt. Let yourself see it through.”
“Oh, yeah. Really letting myself see this through, sneaking around behind everyone’s back—”
“Well, at some point, they’re going to find out. Even in his grief, Austin’s not stupid. And I’ve seen the way that man looks at you—and that was before you guys had sex. Ya’ll must be on fire.” She finished her sentence in a fake Southern accent.
“Yeah, yeah, that accent had me at hello.”
“And then that ass—”
“Don’t get me started. But you’re lucky I know you love Bran, because I was about to cut those bitches in the stands behind me. How fucking dare they check him out?”
“Good. That’s the spirit. Fight for your man.”
We said goodbye, but something clicked with her last statement. Fight for your man. And while I had no intention of fighting off the women throwing themselves at him, I realized that I might need to fight a bit if I wanted something more with Nate.
I just needed to figure that out because no one would think it was a good idea for the two of us to be involved.
Could I be okay with the judgment of the world?
Jason’s wrath and scorn would only end up hurting Cooper if he found out about it.
Would I fight for Nate? Better yet, was I willing to fight for my happiness?