“Yeah, but it’s been a long-ass week.”
That it has.
Motioning behind him, he says, “Rider’s in his room.” He makes a face. “He’s been talking to his dad for a while.”
Oh, Lord. That can’t be good.
When he sees my reaction, he chuckles. “But that’s why I’m sending you up there. Besides, I have to get to practice.”
I’m about to ask if Rider is going to be late for practice when I remember he can’t attend until after tomorrow’s hearing.
My heart softens. I don’t want to be mad at him right now. Not with so much riding on what happens at that meeting. Even if we end up going our separate ways, I don’t want a repeat of freshman year where we just stopped being in each other’s lives. Isn’t that what adults do? They put aside their differences to talk?
As I head up the stairs to his room, I decide I can do that. I can be mature and focus on tomorrow. Maybe ask if he needs help with Poppy and be a friend. I’ll save any ranting until after his meeting. If I were in his shoes, that’s what I would want.
His door is open a crack, and I can see him pacing while he talks to his father.
“I’m doing my best, Dad!”
Even from here, I can hear Hank yelling, but I can’t make out any words.
“In case you haven’t gotten the memo, it’s not easy to take care of a baby, go to classes, do my homework,andplay football. I’ve barely fucking slept this semester.”
Rider lets out a groan at Hank’s response. “Don’t fucking talk about her.”
I still, my heart suddenly erratic in my chest. Is he talking about me or Miranda?
I shouldn’t stand in the hallway eavesdropping. Nothing good can come from me overhearing a private conversation.
As I turn to go, his next words cut me to the core.
“When has a relationship with a woman meant anything to me?”
Oh, God. He can’t be talking about me. About us. Is he?
His voice is glacial, flaying me open as he goes. “I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times—I’m just blowing off steam. Just fucking around. All the women I’m with know the deal. It’s never serious! No one is gonna be hanging on to me when I get drafted. Is that what you want to hear? You’ve always said love is a lie. A con.”
My blood pounds in my ears.
It’s never serious.
Blowing off steam.
All the women.
Love is a lie?
What the hell?
For the third time in two days, I try to choke back the tears, but the torrent makes its way down my face.
I can’t confront that asshole while I’m crying!
Devastated, I back away from his door. Fly down the stairs. Out of the house. Across the street.
Once I’m locked in my room, I collapse on my bed and let out a sob.
At least now I know how he truly feels.
