Page 116 of A Fool's Game

“They’re going to condemn this place. Probably tomorrow. And then I have nothing.”

“That’s all bullshit, and you know it.”

It surprises me enough that it takes me a second to respond. When I do, my words drip with contempt. “You would say that. You have fucking everything!” I scream the last word in his face as he stands his ground.

“And all I want to do is give it to you.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“Why not?”

I don’t have an answer, so I turn away, glaring at the crack once more.

Ainsley, however, isn’t done.

“I’ve been listening to this sob story from you since day one, Taylor. About how you gave up everything to pour your money into this place. About how your parents, who seem pretty damn able to me, do nothing to help. Your fuckingbrothers, who could easily be holding down jobs and helping do fuck all. It’s just you, making the ultimate sacrifice of your time and your energy and your dreams. And what was the end goal here, Taylor? Really? You talk about inheriting the place, so your plan was to continue working your ass off and sleeping in the attic of your girlfriend’s house until your parents died? Or maybe just until you need to move in here to take care of them? And then what? You work full-time and care for your parents? And your fucking brother? Where was he going in this future homeowner utopia you’re living in? He just magically gets his shit together and moves out and you get to live here in your crumbling beach house, hours away from your job, all by yourself? That was your fucking plan?”

“Fuck off.”

“No, man. I’m not fucking off. You’re stuck with me. And if you want to pretend that shit was all going to magically?—”

I turn too fast for him to react, my shove connecting with both shoulders and sending him back onto his ass with a splash.

“Jesus fuck?—”

“You were supposed to be here!” I roar with my last morsel of energy.

“I know. I fucked up. Tell me what I can do.”

I sink back to my seat, resting my head in my hands. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Ainsley shifts toward me, still on his knees in the water, which grows deeper by the minute. “It matters to me.”

“If it mattered, you would have been here.”

“That’s not true. Nothing matters more to me than this. Than you and Gem. I fucked up and shit went sideways, but that’s going to happen. And it’s never going to be the end. There is no end. That’s how much you matter.”

I shake my head, too tired to keep fighting. “It was all for nothing, anyway.”

“Taylor—” he starts, but I cut him off.

“The papers. He never even asked for the surveys. He was always going to fail us. I mean, look at this fucking thing.”

After hours of staring at the crack, now I can’t even bring myself to turn my head in its direction.

“It’s unfixable. That’s what they’ve been trying to tell us from day one. I was just too pigheaded to listen. I needed to try everything. No one else bothered because they could see the truth.”

His hands are on my knees, sliding up my thighs, tightening his grip. He slips his kneeling body between my knees until there’s barely an inch between my hanging head and his upturned face. I close my eyes and let him kiss me. At first, I allow it because fighting him off seems like too much trouble, but as the moment and his mouth press on, I start to feel some of my energy returning. Some of the energy I lost along the way. Some of the sanity I left at the top of those stairs.

When I let go and kiss him back, a low, contented sound escapes the back of his throat, tickling my lips as it passes through his mouth and mine. I press my tongue into him, and he raises up higher on his knees to press back.

With Ainsley's hands on my face and his tongue in my mouth, the taste of him a reminder that not all is lost, even as my stupid mind tries to convince me it is, I feel a bit of the weight loosen from my chest and lift off. Not all of it, but enough.

“I’m sorry. I wish there was something we could’ve done,” he whispers, forehead pressed against mine.

“My dad says it’s time for us to move on.”

He must hear the hesitation in my voice because he asks, “But?”

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