Even though it was his fault I had a concussion, I didn’t blame him. I blamed myself. I blamed the fact that I wanted Ridge so badly that I hadn’t looked around my surroundings before I jumped into his arms and kissed him.
I missed him. I missed him; my entire chest ached with it. I knew he was the other half of my soul, and now that we had been away from our father for a few years, I finally understood what a horrible man he was.
I knew that he wasn’t a good man, a good father, or anything good. I didn’t miss him. I knew Creed didn’t either. He only wanted us to be normal. To have a normal family. A normal life.
But that wasn’t us. It was never going to be us.
No matter how hard we tried. Our lives weren’t normal from the day we were born. I tried to tell Creed that once, but he didn’t want to listen.
And after that, I dropped it. I threw myself into school and cheer, though I wasn’t friends with any of my team.
They were mean, Queen bees who thought they were better than everyone in the school, treating so many people as less than, and I hated it.
I didn’t go to parties with them, I didn’t spend time with them outside of practice, even going so far as to show up with seconds to spare before I was late to practice, and leaving as soon as our Coach let us leave.
I had no friends at school. Neither did Creed. He was quiet, broody, and stuck to himself, and made sure that no one, including any of the boys at school, got close to me.
Not that I wanted any of those boys; my heart was already Ridge’s.
I never brought up Ridge again to Creed. But now that we were adults, had gone through college, and were in the big leagues together, with me as a cheerleader, and he as their star quarterback, I couldn’t keep silent much longer. I needed Ridge in my life. I spent too much time being unable to choose what I wanted, but I wouldn’t allow it much longer.
Creed was amazing while he played. So focused and perfect. He stayed up late before the game to prepare.
He was their team captain, and he refused to let anyone down again.
I knew our father wouldn’t get near him again, but he still had that trauma.
I blinked at my reflection in the mirror, hating that I was so trapped in the past.
I wanted to move on and begin the life I dreamed of. But first, I had to talk to my brother.
I couldn’t let him dictate my life to me any longer. I needed to show him that I could make my own choices. He was being too much like our father with this.
Overbearing and mean. Ridge had done nothing wrong to Creed personally.
I let him tell me for too long that I couldn’t choose my own future, and now I was done.
I saw many of the girls on my team finding their happy-ever-after, and I wanted mine. I waited too long for Ridge.
I just hoped that he hadn’t moved on.
I walked out of the bathroom, down to the kitchen, where Creed was already there.
He was shirtless, something I saw too often in our home. He had some tattoos covering him in different places, where he had some of the worst scars from our father.
Creed looked over his shoulder at me, “Hey.”
I smiled at my brother, “Hey.”
He lifted a brow, “You came in late.”
I shook my head, chuckling, “We had to go over the new choreography.”
Creed sighed, “Fine. You know I worry.”
I nodded, “I know. But you know we are adults, right? Katia kicked my butt during practice last night and I didn’t have time to tell you about it before I was asleep.”
Creed lifted a brow, “You know I will always worry about you. I’m your big brother. It’s my job.”
