Page 28 of Let You Love Me

Bile rises in the back of my throat, and I want to punch him so badly I fist my hands at my sides to stop myself from doing something I’ll regret. “Sophie isnota pawn,” I spit. “Don’t worry, your dirty little secret is safe with me. No one knows you’re her father,” I hiss.

Relief flickers in his dark gaze and it’s like a hot poker to my anger. He exhales and nods. “Okay. But I still don’t like the idea of you parading around in front of all these guys.”

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from lashing out.

Since when has Chance ever been possessive of me? And what right does he have to tell me what I can and cannot do?

“I think my father’s warning to the team was clear enough. Besides, you have no hold on me, Chance. We were never anything besides—”

“Don’t say that.” His expression morphs into something bordering on regret, causing me to blink as if I might be imagining it. “You know we had something real. I just can’t have any complications or distractions in my life.”

And there it is. The truth. Or at least part of it because not for one second do I think what we had was real.

Chance is a lot of things, but having a bleeding heart is not one of them.

A rueful smile curls my lips. “I’m all too aware of how you can’t have ‘distractions’ in your life,” I say, making air quotes with my fingers. “But as long as we’re no longer together, you have no say in what I do with mine.”

“You say that like I’m doing this just for me.”

I snort and shake my head.

“I helped get your father this spot, didn’t I?” He shrugs. “And who knows what the future holds. I might be able to get him something in the NFL one day but seeing you here every day won’t serve me well if I’m to keep my head.”

I narrow my eyes on his face. To hang my father’s career over my head is cruel. I know damn well what got him here; it’s why I’ve kept my mouth shut all this time, but we both know my father isn’t moving to the next level with him.

I say nothing, waiting for him to finish his tantrum or whatever the hell this is.

“You know I still have feelings for you.” He steps forward and I hold my breath.

When he reaches out and slides a lock of my hair through his fingers, I jerk away from his touch. “Don’t act like we were more than we were, Chance. I was a fool once, but never again. I’m not the same starry-eyed teenager I was back then. I’ve grown up.”

He licks his lips, gaze flickering over me. My stomach sours.

“That’s too bad.” His lips curl. “I liked that starry-eyed teenager.”

Yeah, because you could so easily manipulate her.

God, I was a fool to think we were good together, that he loved me . . .

I swallow over the bile rising in the back of my throat and fake gag. “You’re the same selfish narcissist you’ve always been, Chance. Some things never change.”

“That’s not fair. You know I want you, Lane, but I want football more. It would be a waste to squander my talent right now when what I need most is to focus. Maybe once I have a few years under my belt in the NFL . . .”

I fight the urge to dry heave again and instead laugh. “Let me just hold my breath.”

Disapproval glints in his eyes. “Sarcasm isn’t an attractive trait.”

Neither is selfishness, but here we are.

I bite my tongue in an effort to save my energy.

There’s no point in arguing; it’s like going round and round on a Ferris wheel with no end in sight. So I save my energy. He’s not worth it, anyway. All he’ll do is say something in return to rile me up even more, and I’ve already had my temperature spiked enough for one day.

“Are we done here?” I ask at the same time my father takes the field. “Because I have a job to do.”

Chance’s gaze flickers to my father then back, and I know he’ll retreat now that he’s looking this way. God forbid my father discovers what a jackass he is.

As expected, he nods then steps away from me, snatching his helmet off the bench on the sidelines before jogging over to where my father stands, clipboard in hand.

---