Page 12 of False Start
“May I ask why?”
“Because if my former teammates and best friends, who are the closest things I have to family, ever come to visit, they all have girlfriends or wives or fiancées. So, they’ll all need their own room.”
“Fair enough,” I said, ready to move on, but he cut me off.
“And if my actual family ever comes, I need a room on the opposite side of the house from me to stick them in so I can avoid them at all costs.”
My hands froze in my lap, my eyes on the tablecloth.
I couldn’t even look at him, for fear of what I’d find in those deep blue eyes.
I was no stranger to his relationship with his parents. I could close my eyes and still remember the first time I heard his screams when his father came at him with a belt, could still see his mother’s dejected face as she sat on the porch and pretended like she didn’t hear it.
I guessed part of me hoped things had changed.
By that comment, I knew they hadn’t.
The way Kyle was sitting now, all blasé, his arms folded across his chest as he reclined in the chair across from me, he seemed like he had the world in the palm of his hand. And in so many ways, he did. He was young, insanely hot, insanely rich, and a professional athlete.
But in those eyes of his, I could still see the boy I used to know. I could still remember his lopsided grin and carefree attitude. I could still remember how different he was when it was just me and him, as opposed to when his parents were around. I could still remember how hard I’d fought against my crush on him, how I’d made fun of myself for having the hots for a boy two grades younger than me who was so... annoying.
And yet, it’d been impossible to fight his charm. He’d been impossible to resist.
And I’d paid the price for falling.
Our food arrived, saving me from having to comment. For a few moments, we ate in silence, and then Kyle dropped his fork and took a long pull of water with his eyes on me.
“You never answered my question.”
“You never asked one,” I shot back.
He tapped the side of his glass with his long fingers. “Did you get married?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
I tongued my cheek, dropping my own fork and sitting back in my chair before I dragged my gaze to his. “Because at the time it happened, you had been out of my life for years.”
“And whose choice was that?”
My jaw hardened at the audacity. “I think for the sake of remaining professional, we should keep our conversations to house-hunting and steer clear of reminiscing over the past.”
“Are you married now?” Kyle asked. “That’s a present question — not a past one.”
My nostrils flared, my eyes dropping to the table once more. “No.”
Suddenly, my phone began vibrating in my purse hanging beneath the table. I scooted back so hard the chair ground against the floor, fumbling for my bag and whipping the device out. I always put my phone on silent during work meetings, but I made sure the few important people I needed to have access to me could still get through.
When I saw my ex-husband’s name on the screen, my stomach dropped.
“Excuse me,” I said, ditching the table and all but running back to the hallway where the bathrooms were.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Sebastian’s sick.”
I blinked, and then let out a long breath, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I’m at a work dinner, Marshall.”
