Page 135 of Chasing After You
“Have you seen the videos of women waiting outside the stadium with signs for him? I’ve never seen anything like it. It makes me think about hiring someone to leak naked pictures of me,” another says, and Hunter moves to mute the speakers, but I shake my head.
“Leave it, Hunter. It’s fine.”
He looks uneasy, but sets the remote down.
“This is a classic case where the man is praised and the woman is shamed, despite both of them having their privacy violated,” the female announcer interrupts.
She’s not wrong. I’ve been called every derogatory name in the book, and new ones are even being created to describe me.
“I’m not shaming her, but I am wondering why she never pursued a modeling career—” one of the men starts to say, but Hunter mutes the sound before he can finish his sentence.
I turn to look at him, and he stares right back at me. “I’m not listening to them talk about you that way.”
“The same way everyone else is talking about me? This isn’t going away, so we might as well stop avoiding it.” I fight the urge to go back out to the water. I need to return to the land of the living at some point. The longer I hide out, the harder it’s going to be.
“Mirabelle, he’s not avoiding it. Hunter did the right thing. You don’t need to listen to that shit,” Dad says firmly, leaving no room for argument.
“Dad—”
“No, Mira. I don’t want to listen to it either, unless you want me to end up in jail.”
Hunter offers me a reassuring smile. “I would like to point out how wrong he was, though. If any of us is going to pursue a modeling career, everyone knows it’ll be JJ.”
It’s the exact wrong thing to say, which is why it does such a perfect job of diffusing the tension.
The room erupts into laughter and Dad shakes his head at us. “How the hell did I get stuck with kids that are so much like Owen?”
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Mirabelle
THE ROAR OF the stadium is loud around me. I’m not surprised, considering how at the beginning of the season, everyone thought Henry would never be able to lead us to the playoffs.
Tom is sitting by the door of the private room where we’re watching the game, but you can still hear everything going on outside.
My family is in their box, and I’m going to try joining them later, but I need to work up to it. I’m already nervous about the conversation I need to have with Henry after the game, and there’s only so much I can handle at a time.
Oh fuck. I think I’m going to be sick.
I twist the bouquet of flowers I brought in my hands as a peace offering, and I hope he accepts them. Honestly, I wouldn’t be able to blame him if he didn’t.
“Mirabelle, you’re going to destroy those flowers before you can give them to him if you keep twirling them,” Tom says, and I groan, setting them down on the table.
“Sorry, you’re right,” I mumble, taking a seat in the chair as I watch the screen on the wall broadcasting the game, waiting for a glimpse of Henry. “Do you think it’s dumb I got him flowers?” I ask, peeking in Tom’s direction.
“Henry won’t think it’s dumb if it means something special to you.”
“Are you sure?” My leg won’t stop bouncing, and Tom raises his eyebrows at me.
“I’m sure.”
I exhale, refocusing on the screen.
The talk with my mom was exactly what I needed to hear, and I weighed the pros and cons of being with Henry, and being without him. The pros of being with him outweighed every single con I could come up with.
I want to be with Henry, even if he doesn’t believe he’s deserving of my love. I’ve never wanted to be with anyone else.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out, extremely confused why Uncle Owen is calling me, when the Panthers are supposed to be walking onto the field shortly. I answer, holding it up to my ear. “Hello?”
