Page 28 of Love at Second Down

There’s a split-second where my mind goes blank, where all I do is fuckingfeel?her fingertips grazing over my cheekbone, her palm warm against my skin, the soft brush of her thumb. She feels like fucking sunshine and rainbows. The first taste of ice cream on a hot day. A crackling fire at dusk, thawing your frozen bones. That first sip of water after you’ve been parched. Like heaven and everything good in this world all wrapped into one.

And then I remember whose hand it is and how she broke me, and it all comes flooding back. Those desperate days after. The first weeks of hell without her and the months that followed.

Her touch is nothing but heartbreak.

I snap and grip the hand cupping my jaw, ripping it away before gripping her waist and spinning her around in one smooth motion until I have her pinned against the door, my breath hot on the side of her face as I look down at her. Her eyes are like a bottle of bourbon, her cheeks pink, her lips parted, her breath a helpless rasp.

“You want to know how I feel?” I hiss.

She answers with a barely perceptible nod.

“I feel like seeing you again after all this time is like ripping the scab off an old wound. I feel like you’re here because you’re bored at school in Cambridge with all of Daddy’s rich, elitist friends. That I’m the only real thing you’ve ever had in your life, the only person who hasn’t been bought and paid for. It’s no coincidence that you show up at the height of my college football career, right when we’re in the thick of the National Championship. I also think having a professional football player on your arm would pair nicely with the Astor name, and nowthat I’m closer than ever to it, you’ve realized what a mistake you made.”

I rake my gaze over her, noting the heavy rise and fall of her chest, and shoving aside the brief spike of lust at the sight of her. Then I sneer and continue my tirade. “Or maybe I’m wrong and that’s all bullshit. Maybe this is some kind of mission for closure or to seek forgiveness so you can cleanse your soul or some shit. I don’t know, and I don’t care, because I also feel like the day you left me was a gift. It was the best thing that could have ever fucking happen to me because you showed me that love doesn’t last. That people don’t stay. Most of all, you showed me your true colors. That you’re every bit as vapid and superficial as your family name. That you’ll trade in a good thing for something better, something new and shiny, but when that gets old, you’ll try to buy back what’s been lost.” My lip curls. “But guess what? I’m not for sale. I never was.”

Fire burns in my veins as I take a step back, soaking in her stunned expression. And fuck if even after all this time, a part of me doesn’t want to take her into my arms and soothe away the pain I know I just caused.

“I would never . . .” She shakes her head, her eyes filling with tears, and a vengeful, viscous part of me takes joy in watching her struggle to swallow her emotions when I’ve been struggling to digest mine for years. “None of that is true. I love you.”

I choke out a laugh. Unable to look at her any longer, I stare at the wall beside her head. “Don’t.”

“It’s true. You can be mad, you can say hurtful things, and yell and shout and tell me how despicable I am, but trust me, it’s nothing I haven’t told myself in the time we’ve been apart. It’s nothing I haven’t thought about before, and it’s certainly nothing I don’t deserve. But I can take it, and Iwillchange your mind. I’m different now, stronger. My reasons for leaving?”

“Your reasons for leaving were shit,” I snap, narrowing my eyes on her.

“There are things you don’t know. If you did, you would understand. Maybe it was wrong,” she says, talking faster now, as if I might cut her off before she can finish, “but I had reasons for why I did what I did. For the way I did it.”

I snort. “Please, enlighten me,” I say with a wave of the hand. “If they’re so compelling I’d understand, then please share because I’d love to hear it.”

Her mouth opens, and it’s seconds, maybe even a whole minute before she finally says, “I can’t tell you. At least, not yet.”

“Ah, right.” I rock back on my heels, nodding in understanding, because I never expected she’d have anything to share.

“No, Damon. You have to believe me,” she says, reaching out, once again pleading. “You have to just trust me.”

I bark out a laugh. “Trust you?” I say with a shake of the head. “Now that’s the funniest thing you’ve said yet.”

“Damon?”

“No more.” I hold a hand up, silencing her, ready to snap. “I gave you a chance to say your piece, and unless you want to elaborate on these elusive reasons, then we’re done here.”

I step back, then cross the room, putting as much space between us as possible. “Now text Chris and tell him that we’ve talked.” When she doesn’t budge, I bark, “Now!”

She only hesitates a moment, her gaze lingering on mine before she swallows and slides her phone from her pocket and begins to type.

By the time the bedroom door creaks open fifteen minutes later, I’ve gotten really fucking good at breathing the same air as Avery while pretending she doesn’t exist. That, and I’ve committed every inch of Chris’s room to memory.

I stand from my perch on the floor across from where Avery’s still frozen beside the door, when it swings open, and the asshole himself is standing in the doorway, looking happy as a pig in shit. “So?” Chris claps his hands. “How did it go?” His gaze bounces between us in the silence, dropping to the curled fists at my side and his smile slowly fades.

Without a single word, I slide past Avery and push past Chris.

“Hey, man.” He lays a hand on my shoulder, but I shrug him off.

“Don’t fucking talk to me,” I snap. All I see is red as I stalk through the living room where Brandon, Jace, and West all hang their heads in shame, as they fucking should.

My hand finds the doorknob and I swing it open, ready to get the hell out of here at the same time Chris calls out, “So, I guess we’ll see you tomorrow before our flight?”

I flip him the bird before I slam the door shut behind me.

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