Chapter 1
ONE
SCARLETT BLACKSTONE
I'm stuck in traffic trying to get home, and I hate every second of it. Traffic is one of those things I can't fix, can't control, and can't work around. All I can do is sit here and watch the minutes tick by.
I'm in the middle of firing off an email to one of the brands trying to book Ethan for an appearance when my phone lights up with Mom's name.
A smile tugs at my lips as I connect the call through my car. "Hey, Momma."
"What's wrong, baby girl?"
I glance at the line of brake lights stretched out in front of me. "Nothing. I'm just stuck in traffic. I've been sitting here for like twenty minutes."
"That's all?" she asks. "Or is something else bothering you?"
I sigh and rub my forehead. "I spent all day at the civic center planning Ethan's charity event, and he didn't bother to show up.
Again." Mom is quiet. "It's his charity," I continue.
"He should be involved. And I wouldn't be so annoyed if he had something important going on, but he had the entire day off. "
"When's the last time you took a day off?"
I roll my eyes. Of course she ignores everything I just said. Mom and dad have never been Ethan's biggest fan. They’ve always been careful about it because they know I love him, but they aren’t exactly subtle either.
"Mom, you know I don't work."
She snorts. "That's a lie and you know it. You work your cute little ass off all the damn time." A laugh escapes me despite myself. "I'm serious, Scarlett. You're constantly doing something."
I merge forward a few feet as traffic crawls ahead. "It's just busy right now. Ethan's schedule has been insane."
"Baby, don't get mad at me for saying this because I know we've had this conversation before, but your life isn't supposed to revolve around Ethan."
I close my eyes briefly. Here we go. "Mom..."
"One day you're going to wake up and realize you've spent years building someone else's life while putting your own on hold."
"That's not fair," I murmur.
"Isn't it?" she asks.
I grip the steering wheel tighter hating the truth she’s giving me.
"What about your business degree? Don't you want to use it?"
"Of course I do."
"Then when?"
"When I stop traveling with Ethan."
"You said that last year."
I hate that she's right. "He needed me," I say quietly. "He asked me to come for this season too. I told him I would, but this is the last year."
Mom doesn't respond immediately. I know what she's thinking. I've said that before too. "I just..." I sigh. "I feel like I owe him."
"No, baby. You don't."
"Mom—"
"No. You don't owe him a damn thing. You do everything for that boy."
"He's a man."
"Is he?"
I groan. "Mom, I don't want to do this today."
"I'm not trying to fight with you."
"Could've fooled me."
"I just want you to be happy."
Something about the way she says it makes my chest tighten.
"And I don't know if you are."
"I am happy!" I snap.
The words come out louder than I intend and guilt hits immediately. "Shit. I'm sorry."
"It's okay, baby girl." The softness in her voice only makes me feel worse. "I know this is a touchy subject."
I stare out the windshield. The traffic finally starts moving again. "Can we change the subject?"
"Of course."
I release a breath. "What are you and Dad doing tonight?"
"Your father's outside messing with your bike."
My stomach twists. "My bike?"
"Giving it an oil change or something. You know how he is."
I smile despite myself. Yeah, I know exactly how he is.
Some of my favorite memories are riding behind him with my arms wrapped around his waist, convinced there wasn't a safer place in the world.
The smile fades as a familiar ache settles in my chest. Dad and I used to spend hours in the garage together.
We'd work on our bikes, argue over parts, then disappear for hours on the open road. When I was older and I had my own bike we’d ride just the two of us.
I can't remember the last time we did that. Or the last time I was home long enough to try. The realization leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Because while I've spent years building a life with Ethan, there are pieces of my old one I've quietly been letting slip away.
"Then Uncle Mason and Aunt Carlie are meeting us at Perdition."
"That sounds fun. How are they?"
Mom laughs. "Oh, you know Carlie. Wyatt and Weston just married Hadley, and now she can't stop talking about grandbabies."
A smile tugs at my lips. "I hate that I missed the wedding, but the pictures looked beautiful."
"They were." Her voice turns suspiciously innocent. "What about you and Ethan? You two ever going to set a date?"
I groan. "Mom."
"What? It's a valid question."
"Ethan wants to wait until things slow down. He says it's normal for players to wait until after they retire before getting married."
Silence, the kind that tells me exactly what she's thinking.
"I know y’all are only twenty-four, Scarlett. But you’ve been together for eight years."
"I know."
"So how long does that mean you have to wait?"
I tighten my grip on the steering wheel. "I don't know. Six years. Maybe longer."
Another pause, one that feels heavier than the last.
"Mom, I've gotta go. I love you."
"Baby girl..."
"Tell Dad I love him."
"I will. Love you too."
I end the call before she can say anything else. I'm not mad at my mom. I'm mad at the situation. Mad because it's the same argument Ethan and I keep having. Mad because lately it feels like my entire life is sitting on hold while his keeps moving forward.
For years I've told myself it's temporary. One more season. One more contract. One more year. But somehow the finish line keeps moving.
Ethan and I have been together since our junior year of high school.
When colleges started scouting him, I applied to the schools he wanted.
When he made his decision, I made mine. When he got drafted, I packed up my life and followed him.
When he got traded, I followed him again.
And again. And again. For six years I've followed him around the country.
I love him. I do. But I'm tired. Tired of airports. Tired of temporary homes. Tired of feeling like my life revolves around somebody else's dream. I miss my family. I miss being in one place long enough for it to feel like home.
By the time I pull into the driveway, it's nearly dark. The house is quiet when I walk inside. At first I don't notice anything unusual. Then I see a pair of heels near the front door that aren’t mine.
My stomach immediately drops and I stop moving when a few feet farther down the hallway is a dress that isn’t mine. Then there’s a bra, that’s definitely not mine.
My pulse starts pounding.
No. No. No. There has to be an explanation. Then I hear it. A woman's moan. The sound freezes me in place. For a second I can't move. Can't think. Can't breathe.
Slowly, I walk down the hallway until I get to our bedroom door that is partially open. My hand trembles as I push it wider and just like that, my entire world shatters.
Ethan is lying on his back in our bed. Our bed.
A woman is straddling him and his hands are on her hips, guiding her as she fucks him.
Her huge, fake tits keep bouncing as they move and they’re both moaning.
God, it’s like a damn car crash I can’t look away from.
They're so caught up in each other that they don't even notice me at first.
I just stand there, staring, watching the life I've built collapse right in front of me.
The woman looks vaguely familiar, but I can't place her.
Maybe I've seen her online. Maybe she's one of the countless women who orbit Ethan's world.
I don't know. I don't care. My eyes lock on him, and everything else disappears.
Eight years together following him from one city to the next, building my life around his dreams, believing we were working toward the same future.
And now I'm standing in the doorway of our bedroom, watching it all fall apart.
Then his eyes open. For one second he looks confused and the next all the color drains from his face. "Oh fuck, Scarlett." He shoves the woman off of him and grabs our quilt, the one I spent hours deciding on. Trying to build the perfect life for us.
I shake my head once, then again, but the movement keeps going on its own.
My throat tightens, my chest burns, and I turn away before either of them can say or do anything else.
I need to get out of here before I completely fall apart.
The tears refuse to fall, staying trapped inside me, caught somewhere between my heart and my lungs, making it impossible for me to breathe.
I make it halfway down the hallway before I brace a hand against the wall.
I can't breathe. I physically can't breathe.
The pressure in my chest feels unbearable.
Like someone is crushing my ribs. Like I'm dying. Oh my god, my parents were right, everyone at home was right and I just couldn’t see it. I refused.
The bedroom door slams shut behind me and a minute later Ethan appears breathing heavily wearing nothing but a pair of athletic shorts. "Scarlett," His voice cracks.
I stay hunched over, staring at the floor as I fight for a breath. My chest feels like it’s caving in beneath the weight of what I just saw. Eight years of loving him, following him, building my entire life around him… and somehow it still wasn’t enough.
I turn and look at him. “Why?”
Ethan shrugs like the spineless fuck he is. “I was lonely. You weren’t ever around.”
“Never around?” My voice cracks with disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t even work because you asked me not to. My whole fucking world revolves around yours, and you have the balls to stand there and tell me you fucked someone else because I’m never around? How fucking dare you!”
“Calm down. Let’s just talk about this—”
“Talk about what, Ethan? Huh? What the hell do you want to talk about? How the woman you’re fucking is still lying in our bed right now?”