Chapter 27
Fin
Vee was more than what others in the Coopers’ organization saw.
In this rare moment, she was broken; she was real and raw with her swollen eyes and red nose.
While crimson splotches dotted her neck and decolletage, she was still beautiful.
I longed to reach out, to hold her, and to beg her forgiveness.
I couldn’t.
There was still more truth yet to reveal.
She stood, her arms stiffening as her palms slapped her thighs.
“Bullshit.” She spoke louder. “I call bullshit, Fin. Poor you. Quarterback, revered by all, suffering through hundreds of brainless Barbies. My heart breaks for you. All that sacrifice just to get me out of your system.” Her volume rose.
“I called you. I texted you. If you wanted me out of your system, you should have returned the damn calls. Told me goodbye. No, you didn’t do that. You moved on as if I never existed.”
“You fucking existed, Vee. Back then, I didn’t want you to.”
Her green eyes doubled in size.
“You want to talk about sharing?” I didn’t wait for her to respond.
While I tried to keep my tone even, the pain this conversation unearthed wasn’t Vee’s alone.
“Vee, you were the first girl—the first woman—who didn’t look at me like a lifelong meal ticket.
I didn’t have to be smart, or funny, or sexy every fucking minute we were together.
” I stood. “I shared shit too. I told you things I’ve never shared with anyone.
I told you about my aspirations for professional ball.
Hell, I took you to my parents’ home in Bowling Green.
” Scoffing, I shook my head. “I bet that was something you told all your rich friends about.”
Vee tilted her head. “What are you talking about?”
“Thanksgiving. You said your dad and stepmother were going to be out of town and you would be going home to an empty house.”
She nodded. “Yeah, the Coopers had a game in New York.”
“You didn’t fucking say that. You never said a damn word about the Coopers.” I inhaled, gripped the railing of Vee’s balcony, and looked out over Lexington. The sky beyond was growing darker, just like my mood. “My parents’ modest four-bedroom ranch was probably laughable to you.”
“No.” Her tone was softer as she reached out to my arm. “Fin, I loved your parents. They were so nice. Your mom taught me how to mash potatoes.” She exhaled. “Not that Daphne ever cooked.”
My timbre was cold. “My turn to call bullshit.”
Vee’s large emerald-green eyes were fixed on mine. “I-I don’t understand.”
“Did you enjoy slumming it?”
“I-I never—”
“Did you go back to Emma and tell her how average my family was? Did you tell her how small their home was? Did you have a good laugh?”
Tears streamed down Vee’s pink cheeks. “No,” she said definitively. “Why would you think I would do that?”
“I didn’t, not at the time.”
Vee turned, sitting back down in the chair. When I looked, her face was in her hands. She looked up. “Oh God, do your parents think that?”
Her draw was too strong to resist.
I crouched and laid my hand on her knees. “I never told my parents. It would have broken my mom’s heart. She really liked you.”
“I-I don’t understand why you think such horrible things about me.”
Inhaling, I stood. “I told you. You weren’t honest with me.”
“Fin, I told you everything about me. I shared everything.”
“Except?”
My one word hung in the air.
Streetlights came to life stories below, and a warm glow came from the windows of her million-dollar condominium.
Vee stood, her shoulders squared. “I told you my name. You knew I was from Lexington. You knew my love of football. You met Leigh. You knew Daphne’s name. I’m sure I mentioned Dad.”
“Dad. You did mention your dad, never by name.”
She spun around. “I don’t call him Reid. I call him Dad.”
“I want you to imagine, you’re starting a new team in Tennessee. A teammate you hardly know sees the picture of the girl you love in your locker, and instead of saying the normal compliments, he makes an offhanded comment about me using you to get into the NFL.”
“Fin.” My name was barely audible. “Shit.”
“Talk about fucking blindsided.”
Her hand was on my arm again. “You didn’t use me. I know that.”
“Because you didn’t fucking trust me enough to tell me who you were, who your father was.”
“I told you,” she said, “a few weeks ago in the parking lot. No one on the UK team knew, except the coach.” She exhaled.
“I wanted to be me, not Reid Hubbard’s daughter.
” She shook her head. “Not the Coopers’ heiress.
Me. I thought that was enough for you.” Vee picked up her glass of wine and drained it. “Obviously, we were both wrong.”
“Vee.” When she didn’t respond, I said, “Abby.”
“Oh hell no.” Vee spun my direction. “Never call me that again.”
“Abigail went by Gail, not Abby.”
Vee shook her head. “Don’t, Fin. I don’t understand. Is this” —she motioned between us— “what you wanted? Was this why you came to the Coopers? You wanted to punish me for not telling you something obvious?”
“Obvious?” I questioned. “If I meet someone from Atlanta with the last name Blank, should I immediately think of the Falcons? How about Pegula?”
“Buffalo Bills.”
“Fuck, at twenty-two I hadn’t spent my life around football owners. Hubbard was just a name.”
“And I loved you for that.” She reached for the door handle. “You hated me for it. This seems like an impasse.” She kept the door open, pressing her petite frame against the glass. “Your contract is safe—unless you plan on bailing on it too.”
“I wouldn’t have bailed if you…”
Vee smirked, keeping her chin high. “I took you for someone who took personal accountability. Wrong again.” Vee motioned through her condo. “You can go now.”
“I don’t want to go,” I replied truthfully. “Vee.” I softened my tone. “Now that the air is clear, can we try again?”
Pressing her lips together, she shook her head as her face fell forward. Her long hair created a veil separating me from her.
“Fuck.” I spun a complete circle, doing my best to keep it together. “I should have returned your call. I didn’t know you saw pictures.”
Lifting her hands to her temples, Vee laughed.
It wasn’t a real laugh, not sincere. “You’re sorry I saw pictures.
You’re not sorry I thought we had a future, and it was shattered.
You didn’t have the decency to talk to me, text me, shit, Facebook message me.
I know communication wasn’t as advanced fourteen years ago.
Hell, I would have taken smoke signals.” Using her palms, Vee wiped her cheeks.
“Please go, Fin. Go home. Take care of your shoulder. With Troy on the IR, the Coopers need you.”
“You weren’t listening.”
Her bloodshot stare met mine. “I heard every word.”
I’d told her I loved her. The girl in the picture in my locker. I loved her, more than I’d loved anyone before or after. “Every word?”
Vee nodded. “Goodbye, Mr. Graham. We’ll keep things professional, I hope.”
“Things shouldn’t end like this.”
“It’s more closure than I had before.” She lifted her chin and blew through her lips. “It sucks, but it’s closure.”
“Think about what I said.”
“Fin, if you want me to apologize for being the reason you screwed nameless women, you’ll be waiting a long time.”
The buzzing in my ears grew louder as I rode the elevator down to the garage.
Talk about a colossal fuck-up. Coming to Lexington was a mistake.
I should have retired. Once I was in my truck, I looked up at the rearview mirror and brought my fingers gingerly to my cheek.
“I’m getting tired of being knocked around. ”
My phone buzzed.
Coach Garcia, the Coopers’ quarterback coach’s name was on the screen.
“Coach?” I said, answering.
“Graham, I wanted you to hear it from me. Cody Simpson re-signed with the Coopers.”
I let out a sigh. “That’s good.”
“You’re not upset?”
“Shit no. I’ll be ready to run reps with him Wednesday.”
“Are you taking care of your shoulder?”
I peered around the parking garage. “I just finished icing it, following doctor’s orders.”
“See you Wednesday.”