Page 80 of Give You Up

It’s not. I’ll be FaceTiming with Beau and Gunner later, but with how Taron is treating me, I am expecting him to cancel on me.

NotCompletelyOffLimits: Will be there in ten minutes. Unless you want me to pick up dinner?

Me: Sure

NCOL: What?

What? I am reading a lot of pent-up frustrations in that one text.Deep breaths in and out, Syn.

Calmed, I reply.

Me: Fried chicken and mashed potatoes? In mood for comfort food

If we are to go head to head with whatever is bothering him, I have to stick around and listen. I have to stop running away from my troubles. And because I can’t this time—I have adult obligations and college to finish—it’s not the running away I have to worry about. It’s avoiding talking altogether.

God, four years is a long time to leave words left unsaid.

NCOL: That’s a plan. See you soon

I exhale the breath I didn’t realize I was holding while waiting for his response. Finally, we’ll talk. And he will get to meet Beau and Gunner. Taron’s smart enough that he’ll be able to put two and two together without me breaking my promise to Beau.

Once the custody fight is over with, Beau will break it to Gunner that I am his big sister. Beau had the forethought to keep my identity a secret from Lola. Lola doesn’t have smarts, but she can be fickle and vicious. Beau was afraid Lola would alert the media of my connection to him and that the media’s attention would disrupt my life in Dumas. His fears aren’t far from the truth.

Media attention can have a trickle-down effect, and before I know it, my business, including my mother’s secret and her connection to Taron’s dad, another ex-football star, will be out there for everyone to gossip about and judge. No thank you.

While I wait for Taron, I throw a load of clothes into the washer, toss the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, and check my fridge, making sure it is stocked with Taron’s favorite ale.

There is a knock on the door. I close the refrigerator door and smooth my hands over my hair on the way to the door. I open it, and it’s not Taron.

“Hunter. What are you doing here? How did you get my address?”

Hands behind his back, he rocks on his heels, and I am suspicious.

“Dare. He said you wanted to talk.”

“I’m sure he didn’t mean at this moment.”

Dare also has a copy of my calendar. His insane ask times are in red. I pull my cell phone out of my back pocket and check my calendar in case I am off on my days. It happens and has been happening a lot lately since Taron and I are having lots and lots of great sex.

“He didn’t. He said to stop by tomorrow between six and seven. I can’t wait that long, Syn.”

His arm swings forward. A bouquet of roses is shoved into my chest.

“I’m sorry for sticking you with the tab. For guilt-tripping you into having a threesome. For making you watch. I’m sorry a thousand times over and will do anything to make it up to you.”

“Anything?” I tuck my phone back in my pocket.

He narrows his eyes. “Within reason.”

Ignoring the roses, I set my hands on my hips. “I’m not getting back with you, so that’s my ask. Drop the idea of us. You hurt me, Hunter.”

“And I’ll always regret that. Please, Syn.”

I shake my head. “There’ll be no starting anything between us. This is our closure. Your apologies close the loop for me. We’re done.”

“Our baby?”

“Guess, Hunter? Do you see a child with me?”

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