Chapter 32
Duffy
Sunday evening was the cherry on top of the perfect week because I found myself sitting in Connor’s suite once again, this time as his actual girlfriend. Ellie came, too, along with my dad and brothers, and I felt absurdly happy, cheering for Connor with the people I loved.
It was a close game, so I spent a lot of time chewing on my nails and cursing the refs with my brothers, but it was as near to perfect as I could’ve ever imagined.
But the postgame activities with Connor were even better.
“You’re not leaving,” Connor grumbled into my ear hours later, when my phone alarm went off at three thirty. His toned arms wrapped around my body and he pulled me closer. “Text your dad or don’t, but I want to wake up with your head on my pillow.”
It wasn’t a confession of love, but the meaning behind it felt important.
I sent my dad a simple text—Too tired to drive, I’m crashing at Connor’s—and went back to sleep, wholly content in Connor’s arms.
As if everything wasn’t perfect enough, when I woke up in an empty bed and wandered out of his room and into the kitchen, there he was, making pancakes.
“Look at you,” I said, unable to hold back my grin because he looked so adorable. He looked capable in the kitchen, like he knew what he was doing, even though he was wearing boxer briefs and a faded old T-shirt.
“I remembered you saying you were a fiend for pancakes,” he said, flipping a flapjack.
“So thoughtful,” I replied, walking over and leaning against the counter in front of him. “Maybe I should start talking about things that I like all the time.”
“You think I don’t already know what you like?
” he said in a voice that sent a little shiver down my spine, the intensity of his blue eyes reminding me of his heated gaze that roamed over my body last night, that locked on my own eyes as his touch left a fiery trail all over me.
He took the pan off the burner and wrapped his arms around my waist, jerking me closer to his body.
“Fuck, I could die every time you show me.”
I could die of happiness this very minute, I thought.
“How’d you sleep?” he asked, his eyes so bright that it took my breath away.
I cleared my throat, trying to get a hold of myself. “Like a baby,” I said, my hands resting on his chest. “Your bed is really quite comfortable.”
“I think I was what you found comfortable,” he said with a grin. “You were basically on top of me the entire night.”
“I’m sorry, I’m just used to the middle of the bed,” I said with a laugh.
“Oh, I wasn’t complaining,” he replied, and something about the tone of his voice made me feel weak. “I’m really hoping to be your middle of the bed again tonight.”
“I mean, you are really good at it…”
We spent the rest of the morning eating pancakes, FaceTiming with his grandpa, and showering together.
By the time we headed down to the garage and got in his car, I felt genuinely more content than I had in years.
As Connor drove me home, I tried to think of ways to convince him to hang out at my house all day because why not?
I’d taken the day off as recovery from everything that’d been going on with my dad, so I’d decided to lean into a full day of relaxation.
His phone started ringing over Bluetooth, and the name Brian Cartner showed up on the screen.
“Hey, Brian. What’s up?” Connor said after answering the call.
He reached over with his right hand and linked his fingers through mine, and I looked down at our intertwined hands and couldn’t believe how perfect everything was.
“Great game last night, bro,” the guy said, his voice blasting into the car through the speakers.
“Thanks, man,” Connor said.
He looked over at me and mouthed the words my agent, and I nodded.
“I saw all the photos of you and Duffy Distefano last night and I am fucking proud, Cunningham,” he said, and I wanted to giggle.
How surreal was my life? My NFL boyfriend’s agent was saying he was “fucking proud” after seeing photos of us together.
“So proud that I called Bethany to check in on your status and holy shit—you are the organization’s golden boy right now. Between the wins and the way you committed to the Duffy bit, things are looking promising as—”
“Wait, Brian,” Connor interrupted loudly, glancing over at me with panic in his eyes. “Stop.”
What? The Duffy bit? I watched him, suddenly so fucking confused. My brain couldn’t process what was going on.
“They are, though,” Brian continued, a smile in his voice.
“Hauling a cat around town, playing the doting boyfriend at the hospital; no one would’ve imagined you going that far, and it’s actually genius.
Bethany’s got a big head because the pumpkin patch date was her idea, but that’s better for you anyway.
I think you’re staying in Minneapolis, kid, because they’d be insane to let you go now—”
“Brian, stop,” Connor snapped, shaking his head as he looked at me, but the guilt in his eyes told me everything I needed to know. “It’s not like that at all.”
“Yeah, but I know you weren’t into it the first time and we all kind of bullied you into taking her out—”
“No, you didn’t,” Connor said quickly.
Too quickly.
“You know we did, Cunningham, and you were a total company man for taking one for the team—”
Connor disconnected the call and abruptly pulled over to the side of the road. There was an excruciating second of silence in the car.
“Listen,” he said, looking over at me. “That isn’t what it sounded like.”
It was like everything was in slow motion as he stared at me with guilt all over his face. My thoughts were slow, jumbled, rewinding the words that’d just bounced around the interior of his car.
He hadn’t wanted to take me out.
They’d bullied him into asking me to dinner.
Playing the doting boyfriend at the hospital.
The pumpkin patch date was her idea.
“Don’t lie to me.” The words came out shaky, but I swallowed hard because I needed to keep it together. I looked at that handsome face—fuck my life—and said, “Tell me the truth.”
And in spite of everything, I knew he would.
Connor took a deep breath. “Okay, so after the Kel and Kell show, it might’ve come up that the front office liked the idea of us together, right? They didn’t force me to take you out or anything, but they did say that it’d help them with the ugly Carl story if people were distracted by—”
“So you didn’t want to ask me out.”
Why did that feel so bad? So insulting?
So fucking gross.
“Duff, it doesn’t matter because—”
“It matters to me,” I interrupted. “So when you called me at my dad’s house, it was because you were doing a favor for the company, right?”
He sighed and dragged a hand over his face. “I liked you and I wasn’t against asking you out, but I also—”
“—wouldn’t have asked me out if they hadn’t brought it up, right?”
I looked out the windshield, at the bright morning sun, and felt like a pathetic piece of shit. The entire time I’d known him I’d been spinning in circles, trying to ensure he saw me as more than a friend, but the reality was that he’d never even seen me as that.
“I mean, I can’t say for sure, but I’m grateful it happened, Duff. I can’t regret it because that favor led to me finding you, the very best friend I’ve ever had in my entire fucking life, my favorite fucking human. It was a shitty misstep, but—”
“You’re a shitty misstep,” I said, reaching for the door handle, wanting to die as the words “best friend” played on repeat in my head.
“Duffy,” he said, his eyes narrowed. “What are you doing?”
“Getting out,” I said, opening the door.
“What? You can’t get out.”
“Yes, I can,” I said, stepping out of the car.
I closed the door and started walking, but I heard his door slam and he ran up to me.
“Duffy, wait!” he said, grabbing my arm to pull me to a stop. “You have to listen to me.”
“No, I don’t,” I said, glaring at him as I jerked my arm back. “You used me—”
“You used me, too!” he said, raising his voice. “You leaned all the way into the PR machine, only I was fine with it because it helped you, Duff.”
I stepped back. “What are you saying? That I should be okay with your deception because it helped you?”
“No,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I think you need to recognize that we did some of the same things.”
“Oh, did we?” I was full-on yelling, but that was better than giving in to the sobs that were threatening to erupt. “Because I don’t think that’s right. The photographers on our first date. Did you know they were going to be there?”
He pursed his lips. Swallowed.
Then he just gave a nod.
Fuck.
“And what about at the hospital? Was that your team, waiting outside when my dad’s fucking lung collapsed—”
“I had no idea they were doing that until afterward, Duff, you have to believe—”
“And you must’ve laughed your ass off when I gushed about the zombie date when it wasn’t even your idea. Just leave me alone, Connor,” I said, cutting him off. I needed to be as far away from him as possible.
The most romantic thing to ever happen to me was a business transaction orchestrated by some stranger named “Bethany” who worked for the NFL.
Yeah, that fucking tracked.
I’d spent so much time worrying about being friend-zoned, but now that was laughable because this was So. Much. Worse.
God, I’d been so smart to avoid dating after Mom died. I’d been brilliant for not taking a chance and putting myself out there, so right in knowing it would bite me in the ass.
“You can’t just walk down the freeway!” he said, exasperated.
“Lookee, here’s an exit,” I said sarcastically, pointing. “Thanks for your concern, but I’m on the shoulder so I’m good.”
I walked away from him, not looking back. I couldn’t. I was mortified. Because the truth was that part of me had known it all along, right? The entire time we were together—or not together—I’d felt like he was too nice and everything was too perfect.
As it turned out, that was because he was seeing me to keep his bosses happy.
“Will you wait?” he pleaded.
“No,” I said. “Just leave me alone.”
“But I can’t,” he yelled. “I love you!”
“Don’t,” I said through gritted teeth, turning around and pointing my finger, feeling like crumbling to the ground as he said the words I would’ve been over the moon to hear an hour ago.
“Don’t you dare say that to me. We’ve never said that to each other and right now, when I learn that this whole thing has been a sham, that’s when you’re going to throw out the word? Screw you, Connor.”
“It’s how I feel, honestly,” he said weakly, stepping closer to me. “Duffy, come on.”
“Well, it’s not how I feel,” I said, trying to hold back the tears. “I feel like I hate you. I feel like I was actually right all along.”
“Right about what?” he asked.
“That you weren’t worth the trouble,” I said, wanting to hurt him.
Wishing I could make him feel as shitty as I did, even while knowing it was impossible because he didn’t possess the same feelings for me that I had for him this whole time.
“That it would’ve been so much better to never see you after the stupid talk show. ”
I walked a little farther on the shoulder of the off-ramp and was so relieved to see a gas station at the bottom. I prayed Connor wouldn’t follow me, but I couldn’t let myself look back with the twisted hope that he did. I went inside and called my brother.
“Matty, I need you to come get me,” I said.
“Duff, I’m kind of busy right now.”
“Don’t make me take an Uber,” I pleaded, my voice shaking with the effort to keep the tears at bay. “I just walked on the freeway because Connor Cunningham is a liar and I jumped out of his car.”
“Oh, fuck,” Matty muttered. “I’m on my way. Drop me your location.”
I went into the bathroom and took a deep breath, forcing myself not to cry.
I wasn’t going to cry over him because this was never meant to be.
But when my brother showed up and I got in his car, I lost it.
There was just something about the pitying look he gave me when he asked what happened that made me sob out the entire story, wailing like a pathetic teenager.
And I hated it because as he looked at me, he couldn’t reassure me. He and I both knew that I wasn’t Connor’s type, so of course this made sense.
“So you weren’t just pretending for Dad,” he said. “I knew it.”
“We were at first but then…”
“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “What an asshole.”
But as I leaned my head back on the headrest and closed my eyes, I was too heartbroken to feel satisfaction over my brother calling Connor an asshole.
Because not only was I heartbroken over the fact that everything I’d thought was perfect that very morning had all been an absolute lie, but I was also heartbroken for my dad.
I knew he was going to be almost as devastated as I was over the idea of no longer having Connor in our lives.
And one day, I might be able to forgive Connor for hurting me, but I’d never forgive him for hurting my dad, too.
What an asshole.