Page 33 of Something New

Her words finally finished, her rant over. She sagged against him, letting his warmth seep into her body. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, then rested his chin there, holding her. She could have stayed there all day, and maybe, just maybe, she’d stay warm for more than a few minutes.

* * *

They stayed at the beach without talking for several minutes until text messages to both of them reminded them of their responsibilities back at the house. Saying nothing else, Wyatt drove them back, his mind still mulling over what Anna had shared. He had never admitted it to anyone, but he had followed her career, something everyone would have said was crazy. Like poking at a sore tooth or an old injury, never really letting it heal. The constant reminder of Anna was always a presence in his life. It was a like a knife twisting in the gut to see her out with other guys, rumored lovers, and know these were men half the women in America wanted to sleep with.

He had watched her succeed, get everything she had always wanted, and he had seethed, a burning anger that never quite left him deep inside, no matter how many times he said he was over her. He thought she was carrying on her usual ways, being outrageous and moving on with her life. He had believed her press. Her publicity manager had done his job very well indeed to fool even Wyatt.

Now, he had to question everything he thought he knew about Anna since she left. He still had questions, chief among them why she wanted to go back to that hellhole if she was so miserable. But what right did he have to ask her to stay? What did he offer her as a coach at a university? Sure, his salary was decent, but not actress level, and she had made no sounds about wanting to return to Texas or leave her career. No, he and Anna still had more to discuss, more to figure out in this little dance of theirs. But they had time. Caroline had ensured that.

But one thing stuck in his head. Gratitude. He was thinking maybe he had dodged a bullet with his injury. At the high school and college level, it was nice being interviewed and having people fawn all over him. But he'd been young and stupid. As he grew up, he would have hated that intrusiveness, the constant harassment of the media, the second-guessing. As it was, when he quarterbacked, he had Monday morning jocks to contend with, questioning his every play decision, his every shift on the field. Hindsight was always twenty-twenty, but that never mattered to the fans. How much worse would it have been if he had been the starting quarterback? He saw the media frenzy when he was in the NFL those precious couple of seasons, and it had been insanity, but he never experienced it outside the locker room.

No, he liked his privacy and his protective instincts roared to life when thinking of Anna, alone, dealing with that same level of intensity. Who was there to protect her? Who were her friends? Judging by her speech to the kids, she had no one. And the one person who swore he would be there for her had unceremoniously tossed her aside because he was a fucking baby in a hospital bed, wanting her to come and nurse him to health.

He scrubbed a hand over his face, guilt riding him hard. God, how selfish had he been, to demand she completely rearrange her life for him? She was right. His dream had been over. There was nothing for her to do for him except sit and hold his hand. While she had a real shot at fame, although that didn’t seem to turn out like she had wanted.

Nothing had turned out like either of them had planned. Maybe if they had stayed together, if he had pulled the stick out of his ass and gone with her to California when he couldn’t play football anymore, she would have had one person she could trust, she could rely on over everyone else. But he had abandoned her to that pack of feral animals.

No wonder she was pissed. Was it too late for them? Was it too late for him to make it up to her?

Chapter Fifteen

Dinner was a casual affair, with homemade pizza, beer, and wine around the kitchen island. They all had fun making various concoctions of pizza, each stranger than the last, but eventually the sun sank low in the west, and they grabbed light coats and headed out to the fire pit for the evening’s activities. Anna’s nerves were raw, and she just wanted to wrap herself up in a blanket and retreat to her room to lick her wounds and regroup, but Caroline was having none of it.

Caroline stood. “Okay, next challenge, and the last one. An oldie but goodie. Truth or dare.”

Delaney jumped to her feet before Anna could respond. “Hell, no.”

Ethan reclined on the stone wall against the house and smirked at her. “Something to hide, Laney?”

Delaney whirled and glared at him. “We all have stuff to hide. I’m not playing a stupid game of truth or dare where I’m the target. Absolutely not.”

Anna stood. Maybe she could get out of this whole activity without ever exposing any secret and still win, especially if Delaney backed down. “So, you give up the challenge and give up your chance to win? The lamp will look great in your apartment.”

Although she had forgotten Delaney had steel in her spine, even if the other woman sometimes forgot her own strength.

Delaney glared at Anna, who smiled innocently back. “What are the rules?”

Caroline nodded. “Similar rules as before. We tally points by team. You accept and complete the truth or dare, and you get a point. You fail, you lose a point. Final tally by team. Whoever has the most points, wins the money and designates who gets the lamp.”

Brigid, ever the lawyer, asked, “Nothing life-threatening or insulting, right?”

Caroline nodded. “Correct. Nothing too outrageous. Matthew and I will act as judges.”

Immediately, the entire group protested. Delaney spoke for everyone. “No, you paid in. You have to participate.”

Matthew stood. “We never even finished the scavenger hunt. There’s no way to win.”

Brigid shrugged. “So what? Grady and I have no shot either, but I’m not complaining.”

Matthew shot her a sour look but settled on a chair, arms folded in front of him. “Fine.”

One by one, everyone agreed and paired up in couples, of course, as Caroline was still trying to play matchmaker. The game started innocently enough with simple questions. The sun had set long ago, and the moon was high in the sky and the night had grown chilly. Tension wound tight around Anna, squeezing her as she waited for when someone would ask the dreaded question. That was why she always chose dare. Truth was too risky.

Then came midnight and Anna almost groaned aloud. Nothing good ever happened after midnight.

“Okay, it’s getting late and we’re all tired. This is the final round. Let’s roll to see who goes first,” Caroline announced.

Somewhere in the night, the game had become more serious, less about fun and more about the conflicts between friends and couples, the tensions that still existed, and old wounds. With alcohol added to the mix, they were playing with a bomb that could go off at any moment. Sensing the mood, laughter was rare now and, if anyone joked, it was more nervous and hesitant, rather than a genuine attempt at humor.

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