Page 37 of Most Valuable Player
“I’m better than that worthless man I was,” he breathes. “And I’ll stay better. For you. My sweet, gentle Mason.”
My tears melt into the silky material of his shirt. I think I’ve lost weight again. Have I always felt this small and pathetic in his arms?
“We’re good for each other. That hasn’t changed, right?” He pulls back so he can reclaim his grasp on my face. Instinctively, I lean into his palms, enjoying the way his cool thumbs soothe the reddened skin beneath my eyes. “When I graduate, I’m taking a more permanent position at my father’s company. I can provide you a good life like your parents want. Your mom hoped she’d find a way to bond our families, and this can be it.” He smiles again, warm and inviting. “Maybe she’ll ease up on your dad. And they won’t have to worry about providing for you anymore. That’s one less stressor in this house, right?”
I stare dazedly at him, clinging to his handsome, angular features. I’m sure people are falling all over him at college. Has he been warding them off because he still sees a future with me? He apologized. So maybe he’s telling the truth? Could we go back to the beginning, when he did anything and everything to make me happy, showering me with gifts and affection, enabling my requests no matter how childish they were?
Probably not. But I’d be lying if I said I haven’t envisioned this moment, those two words on his lips.I’m sorry.And I’d be damning myself if I pretended I don’t fall asleep wishing I could roll over and find his chest waiting for me. I miss the kind words. The reassurances. The company.
I miss being loved.
My hands rise shakily through the air, fingers curling around his wrists. I miss this sensation, too. Of being held. Sought-after. Special.
“I graduate in December,” he says, eyes glinting when he recognizes an opportunity to get through to me. “I’m closing on a house. It’s big and quiet. Plenty of places you can entertain yourself with whatever hobby you’re into. You can come live with me and finish senior year.” He leans closer, face strained with desperation. “I’ll take care of you. I know you’re in your parents’ custody until you turn eighteen, but I don’t think they’d mind.”
I’ll take care of you.That’s nice. The thought. I can barely take care of myself.
“I’ll give you time to think about it,” he says softly, stroking my hair. “In the meantime, I brought you something. Want to see?”
I don’t answer, but that doesn’t stop him. He reaches into his back pocket and slips out a velvety bag, then pops it open so I can see it glint in the bedroom lighting. It’s a watery-blue gemstone on a silver chain.
“Your birthstone,” he says brightly. “Aquamarine. Remember whenyou took astrology seriously? I thought you’d like this. Can I put it on you?”
I don’t answer, but that doesn’t stop him. He fastens the clasp around the back of my neck, and it falls against my collar like a fifty-pound weight, nearly buckling my knees.
“I won’t force you to answer right away. But I don’t want to give up on you. Onus.”
He kisses my hands like they’re precious to him, like he treasures me. He stands and draws me into an unbearably gentle hug, then trails to the door with a quiet “I love you” that plumes through the bedroom air like a noxious gas.
Then I hear him talking to Mom. She sounds pleased. That’s rare.
The beach is a twenty-minute walk.
I leave through the window. Only after his car drives away.
I want to make mistakes tonight.
Chapter Twelve
Cam
“What about you, Morelli?”
The sound of my last name snaps me to attention. I’m sitting cross-legged on the grainy sand, watching the firepit dance and wriggle as a cool breeze sweeps the beach, tossing embers into the midnight-black air. I didn’t realize that I’d spaced out until now.
“What?” I squeak.
Jody’s watching, the flames illuminating his mischievous expression. “We’re talking about relationships. Are you still ass sore that our precious water boy rejected you?”
The group of ten or so people cluttered around the fire laughs, because mob mentality or something. “He wasn’t for me anyway,” I say airily. “He’s too…”
“Good for you?” Anup guesses, to which my boy Darius flicks his temple with annoyance. Anup scoffs, massaging his skin. “What? I’m right. Why would someone as sweet as Mason Gray date this lump of brainless muscle?”
“My brain is fully functional and very large!” I snap.
“Yeah—how’s that going, by the way? The studying.” Darius shifts his cross-legged position toward me, apprehension glinting in his eyes. The flames in the stone hearth emphasize how nervous he is. Today’s game was messy.
“It’s fine. His help is…like, helping,” I explain.
