I wanted him to leave me the hell alone, but more than that, I wanted him to just tell me why. Why was he so fucking angry with me all the time?
He stalked back into the room and grabbed me hard by the hair, practically ripping it out at the roots.
I squeezed my eyes shut as he brought his face close to mine. I didn’t want to look at him. He was the devil.
“Open your eyes before I cut off your lids!”
I wouldn’t put it past him, so I did.
And when he finally had eye contact, his lips—stained blue from too much alcohol—curled into a sneer. “Because you are an oxygen thief. You had to be the only one, didn’t you? You had to take it all from your twin.”
He dropped my head to the floor with a thud, and I lay still, hoping he wouldn’t come back. Trying to figure out what hurt the most—my ribs, my head, or my right leg as an unbearable ache radiated down to my toes.
But none of that could drown out the pain of losing my brother or the guilt that racked through me for being the one to survive.
As much as I hated Dad, he was right. I didn’t deserve to be here.
Not even sleeping on this goddamn floor.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MIA
Waking up to Jessie Callaghan asleep on my bedroom floor was not how I imagined my Sunday morning playing out.
The heating in this place is crap at best. In the end, I managed to dig out my robe for him to use as a makeshift blanket.
When Tara had gotten home, I hadn’t known what to say. It was like our conversation and the questions I asked him had faded into the background, and like a switch flicked in his head, he closed off, and I didn’t dare push further for fear of him shutting down completely.
I know he’s there, on my floor. I can hear the soft sound of his exhales in the silent room. Part of me wants to climb down from my bed and join him. Part of me wants to snuggle under the robe with him.
I consider what he would do if I did. Would he snuggle back or race out of the room?
“Mia?” he whispers. “Are you awake?”
“Yeah.”
I lean down to see him, and his eyes have regained their sharpness.
“What time is it?” he asks on a yawn.
I reach across for my phone and light up the screen.
Christ.“It’s only six a.m. Do you have practice this morning?”
He shakes his head, staring up at my ceiling. “Nope. Day off today.” When he turns to face me, a sweet smile pulls at his lips. “Cheat day.”
I know what cheat day is; the players talked about it all the time when I was working for my dad. Twenty-four hours where they could ignore their nutritional schedule and indulge. “Pancakes?”
He tucks his clasped hands under his head on the one pillow I could find, turning to face me. Even though we’re lying separately, my body heats like we’re right next to each other, and I can’t help it as I fantasize about what it would be like to spend a night with Jessie Callaghan.
I wonder how many women have had that pleasure.
“Pancakes sound perfect,” he coos.
We lie, staring at each other, perhaps for a beat too long.
Is he thinking about lying next to me?