Page 123 of In It to Win It

My gut cramps up. Then a wave of heat submerges me, and I can’t breathe.

It’s all too fucking much.

I’m a Wynn. I have to be the best. And I can’t be. I just can’t.

The pressure is suffocating. I can’t do anything right. I play with too much emotion or I don’t play with enough. I find a woman who’s warm and kind and caring, but I can’t care about her because it fucks up my game.

“He said crap about her,” I burst out. “I had to hit him.”

The air in the room goes silent and heavy.

“I see,” Uncle Mark says slowly.

Dad covers his eyes with his hand.

“I know, I know. That’s why I broke up with her. I can’t be losing my shit like that over a woman.”

“You know he probably didn’t mean it,” Dad says. “He was just trying to get to you.”

“I know that! And it worked! Fuck.” I drop my head.

“Will it happen again?” Uncle Mark asks.

“No! Like I said, that’s why we broke up.”

“So if Martinez insults her to your face again, you won’t deck him?”

“I . . . I . . . ” I close my eyes. “He better not.”

“Jean Paul. Are you in love with her?”

I roll my eyes, curling my hands into fists. “Why?”

“Look,” Dad says. “It’s understandable that someone insulting the woman you love would upset you. But it’s going to upset you whether you and Taylor are together . . . or not. People say stuff to you. The best chirps go for a guy’s weakness. They ever tell you your mom likes butt play?”

My jaw slackens.

“Ha.” Uncle Mark grins. “One time some asshole told me he saved money on car insurance by riding my mom.”

Dad and Uncle Mark both guffaw.

“Not even funny right now,” I mutter.

“The point is, guys are always going to go after you for something if they think it’ll throw you off. You gotta ignore them, whether it’s about your mom, your girlfriend or your damn dog.” Dad pauses. “Breaking up with Taylor isn’t gonna fix that. Actually . . . ”

“What?” I frown, my mind unable to make sense of what they’re saying.

“I think you were playing better when you were with her.”

I think my head’s going to explode. “I have to go.” I stand. “Are we done?”

No other player would get away with such disrespectful behavior, and this just makes me hate myself even more.

But Uncle Mark nods, and Dad says, “Yeah. But I’m here if you need me, Jean Paul. As your dad.”

When I get home, I know Taylor has been there. Don’t ask me how, I just feel it. Maybe a hint of her scent. Or it could be the Christmas present sitting in the middle of my coffee table that wasn’t there when I left.

I sit down and eye it. The tag reads, “To JP, From Byron.”

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