Page 69 of There's No Us Without You
My legs give way, and I drop to my hands and knees, ignoring the pain radiating throughout my entire body. Nothing can take this moment away from me. I’m tempted to kiss the ground, but I’m pulled to my feet and lifted into the air for a second time tonight, the team and the crowd chanting my name.
I dare anyone to wipe the smile from my face.
NINETEEN
Will
It’s justafter 2 a.m. when I walk through the front door of my house. The light from the lamp on the side table in the lounge room throws shadows on the walls, and the silence is a welcoming change from the noise of the bar.
Lately, I can’t even hear myself think.
I toe my shoes off, leaving them at the front door, and drop my keys into the bowl on the hall table.
As I pass the island in the kitchen, a little yellow Post-it note stuck to the granite catches my attention. Snatching it up, I run my eyes over the words.
Your dinner is in the fridge x
Jesus, even Eden’s handwriting is beautiful.
And she made me dinner?
Fuck.
My hand shakes as I grip the note, almost tearing it in half. I’m not sure what I expected to find when I got home, but it wasn’t this.
I shove the note into my pocket, and stalk towards the fridge to open it. A bowl of spaghetti carbonara sits on the top shelf, another Post-it note stuck to the plastic wrap.
Enjoy!
Even after I blew her off tonight, Eden still cooked for me. Yeah, I’m a real fucking gentleman.
I didn’t exactly lie, though. I did work late; I just didn’t have to.
After last night, I couldn’t bring myself to face her this morning, so like the coward I am, I snuck out before she woke up. I contemplated texting her during the day to see how she was, considering the state I found her in last night. Except, I kept coming back to the same conclusion.
Nothing is going to happen. I’m too screwed up for anyone to love, so what’s the point in trying?
With a sigh, I close the fridge door, and press my forehead to the cold stainless finish.
I’m not hungry, the thought of food unsettling my stomach.
Today was another day of doing my best to ignore my brother’s messages and phone calls. Whatever the fuck he’s gotten himself into now, I want no part of it.
Knowing Tyler, he probably needs money.
Or—shit. Maybe he knows about Dad. Although, if he did, I doubt his messages would be of the begging kind. Threats would be more like it. Not that I’d blame him.
But, fuck, it’s for his own good. He can thank me later. The last thing he needs is the added guilt of seeing the old man again. As far as Tyler knows, Dad took off and rented out the house to pay for whatever fucked-up shit he’d gotten himself into.
And that’s the way it’ll stay. Even after what he did to me, I’ll never stop protecting my brother. Doesn’t mean we need to be in each other’s lives, though.
Yawning, I press the heels of my palms into my eyes and rub them to stop the sting of my unwanted emotions. What I need is to get my hands on someone, and my dick inside them.
That usually helps suppress the urge to burn the fucking world down.
But, all I’ve got at the moment is my hand, so that’ll have to do.
Speaking of things to masturbate over, I pull my phone out to check if Emerson has responded to my last three text messages. Usually, I get something after his team wins a game. But tonight... it’s fucking crickets.
