Page 57 of Most Valuable Player
He lists everything rapid-fire, like he’s been waiting for the moment to remind me of the things he used to do for me. More poisonous guilt clouds through my body, because he’s right. Why am I even arguing with him? He’s always right. “Sorry,” I whisper.
“We wouldn’t have this many problems if you would just listen to me and think things through before acting on your emotions.”
“…Sorry.”
“I know I haven’t been the best version of myself around you, butyou never gave me the space or time to grow. You cut me off when things got difficult.”
“…Sorry.”
He massages his forehead with weariness, then swings his legs over the counter and joins me, scooping me into a gentle hug, slotting me into his arms. “I didn’t come here to scold you,” he whispers, his lengthy fingers dragging through my hair. He smells of warm, spiced cinnamon. He knows it’s one of my favorite scents. His palm unfolds against the back of my neck, holding my head to his shoulder, much more frigid than the one that was there yesterday. “I’m not upset, I promise. So stop shaking, okay?”
“…Sorry.”
“I adore you. And part of you knows that you’ll never stop loving me. I’m not giving up on you, Mason.”
…
“Hear me out. Please. Is there anyone who will love you the way I do? I promised to protect you, support you. I know your soul like the back of my hand. Genuinely, is there someone else who could be there for you? Who could fall for you?”
…
“Girls want bigger men who can protect them, so being bisexual doesn’t do you any favors. And guys—muscly guys, who are your type—always look for prey like you. You’re small and defenseless. Your face is seductive. They’ll try to mistreat you. But I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
…
“Even if therewassomeone out there with good intentions, would they be capable of falling for you? You told me I bring out your good qualities. Do you think other people can see them without me? Do you think they’ll be patient enough to wait for you to leave your shell, like I was?”
…
“You’re not wearing my necklace.”
His sentence is a scythe that slashes through my lethargic stupor and sinks my heart, which has been treading water since he stepped through the door. Instinctively, my fingers fumble along my neckline, seeking the jewelry.
It’s gone.
My stomach twists into nauseating knots. I try to keep the panic from showing, but he notes the shift in my expression, because his jawline tenses. “You lost it?” he asks.
“No.” I’m barely audible. “I didn’t…”
“Is it not a good enough apology gift? I had it custom-made for you.” His hand slides slowly down my face to nestle against the curve of my neck. He doesn’t sound angry, but he rarely does when he’s upset. He’s good at masking it, until he’s not.
“It’s at a friend’s house,” I say, though the air is so thin in my lungs I can barely push the words out. “I was working out with someone and—”
“Why do you look like that?” he asks, his thumb notching beneath my jawline. One of his brows is arched, almost accusingly. “I told you I’ve changed, so you don’t need to act so dramatic, okay? I’m curious, that’s all.” His thumb works deeper, like he’s trying to push the answer out of my throat. “Who were you working out with? You hate exercise.”
“Just a friend.” I’m still whispering. “He made me a regimen.”
“Oh? Who’s this friend? You must be close if he’s making a specialized plan for you,” he says, his thumb now trailing my jawbone. I hate the urge to lean into his touch. He’s being gentle right now, and if I show him I appreciate it, maybe he’ll stay like this.
“Some guy I’m tutoring from the football team,” I mumble.
“A football player.” He speaks with perfect neutrality, but a tenseatmosphere is building around his shoulders. “I take it he’s a bigger guy? Popular? Knows how to work out?”
“I guess.” I don’t know why that matters, but he tends to fixate on meaningless details.
Sure enough, my confirmation further displeases him, and his hand drops to dangle at his side. “I haven’t even met him and I know he’s taking advantage of you,” he says with a frustrated shake of his head. “Honestly, Mason…why won’t you let me protect you?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, voice sharpening. Just a bit. “Cameron isn’t taking advantage of me. He’s paying a favor back.”
