Chapter Eight
Colton
With my elbows perched on my knees, I sit on the bench in the locker room and stare sightlessly at my clasped hands. They’re clenched so tightly together that the knuckles have turned bone white.
Did I do the right thing?
Or was it all a fucking mistake? One I can’t take back, because let’s face it, there’s no way to smooth over a situation when you break up with someone through text. That’s signed, sealed, and delivered.
Here’s what I know—relief flooded through me as soon as I hit the send button.
That’s got to mean something...right?
I straighten my shoulders, all the while trying to convince myself that I did what needed to be done. That, unfortunately, doesn’t stop the self-doubt from mushrooming up inside me. I feel like the world’s biggest asshole for handling it in this manner. I damn well know that Alyssa didn’t deserve this, but I also realize there’s no way I could have pulled the trigger if I’d stood in front of her and forced myself to look her in the eye.
So, yeah...I pussied out and shot her a text instead. And now, I’m acting like a little bitch by not picking up her calls or responding to her messages. She’s attempted to contact me half a dozen times, asking what the hell is going on. Each one has escalated in both tone and disbelief. I can barely stand to read or listen to them. Her pain is palpable.
A heavy hand lands on my shoulder and knocks me from those thoughts. Blinking away the melancholy, I glance at Beck as he loiters beside me. He’s already dressed and itching to leave, and here I am, sitting with a towel draped around my hips. I drag a hand over my face and attempt to pull my shit together.
“Everything good?”
The two of us have been friends since elementary school. We played on Pop Warner football teams together, then in high school, and now in college. Beck is one of the most talented quarterbacks in the country. He’s been breaking state and NCAA records for years. Even as a sophomore, there’s no doubt in my mind that he’ll end up playing in the NFL. If Beck had his way, he would enter the draft next year, but his father has other ideas. And in the Hollingsworth household, Archibald rules the roost.
I shrug off his hand. “Yup.”
My world is only imploding...no biggie. Although, it’s by my own hand, so I’m not sure if that’s something I can complain about.
“Then move your ass, and let’s go. Collins is having a little get-together. I need to chill out for a while.”
A party?
No, thanks. There’s no way I can deal with a large group of people right now. Not with all this emotion ripping me up inside.
“Go on without me,” I mumble, reluctant to reveal what’s really going on. “I’ve got some shit to take care of.”
He smirks. “Is that what we’re calling getting laid nowadays?”
It’s doubtful that will be happening any time soon. Instead of forcing out the words, I rise to my feet and yank a pair of boxers out of my locker before dragging them up my thighs. Joggers and a red Wildcats T-shirt come next. Once dressed, I grab my sweatshirt and athletic bag, ready to take off. All I want to do is go home and lick my wounds in private. Sure, it’s a self-inflicted injury, but that doesn’t make a damn bit of difference. Beck and I are the last ones to leave as he pushes out through the heavy locker room door. I follow behind, sucked back into the chaotic whirl of my thoughts.
The whole did-I-or-didn’t-I-make-a-mistake is eating me alive. The bitch of it is that I’ll probably never know.
“Oh,” he says, moving into the corridor of the athletic center, “hey, Alyssa.”
My head snaps up so abruptly that I nearly give myself whiplash as my gaze collides with icy-blue eyes. All it takes is one look at the fury vibrating off her in heavy, suffocating waves to know that I won’t escape this confrontation unscathed. I swallow down my growing nausea. This is exactly the kind of altercation I’d been hoping to avoid.
When she remains silent, lips pressed together in a tight line, Beck’s quizzical gaze flicks to mine. Whatever he sees painted across my face is enough of a tipoff for him to abandon this sinking ship post haste. Can’t say I blame him for it. I’d probably do the same if I were in his position. He jerks a thumb over his shoulder and takes a swift step in retreat. “So...I’m going to take off.”
Instead of glancing at Beck, Alyssa’s gaze stays pinned to mine.
“I’ll catch you at the dorm,” I mutter, dread pooling at the bottom of my gut.
“Yup.” With pent-up longing, I watch as he disappears down the hallway like the hounds of hell are nipping at his heels.
An uncomfortable silence falls over us.
One heartbeat passes.
Then another.
Now that we’re alone, I mentally brace myself for the oncoming explosion. Except Alyssa doesn’t do the expected. Instead, she stares mutely, scouring my face for answers I refuse to give voice to. Hurt seeps into her eyes, mingling with the fury. A fresh wave of guilt crashes over me, nearly swallowing me whole. It would be so much easier if she’d just go off the deep end. Then I could mentally shut down and tune out the theatrics while she got everything off her chest.
But this?
The unspoken recriminations aimed in my direction?
The pain that radiates off her as if it’s a living, breathing entity?
That’s impossible to tune out.
How can I when I’m the architect of her agony?
When I’m the one to blame for giving in and allowing this to get out of hand?
Ever since middle school, I’ve yearned for this girl. Longed to reach out and stroke my fingers over her. Be close to her. Make her mine. Although, she would have never guessed it from my behavior. I’ve done everything in my power to ignore Alyssa. To keep her at a distance. To push her to the outer recesses of my brain so I wouldn’t have to think about her. So I’d finally stop wanting her—dreaming about her.
It didn’t work.
Nothing worked.
Even when I broke down and asked her out, I knew this is how it would eventually end between us. When it comes down to it, I can’t give Alyssa what she craves. What she deserves.
No matter how tempting it is, I can’t love her the way she needs me to.
So where does that leave us?
In a place that neither of us wants to be.
More than anything, I wish Alyssa had just been a fuck. One I could forget about. But she was never that. Whether she realizes it or not, that’s the problem.
“Why?”
One shaky word falls from her lips, but it’s more than enough. It’s like a burning arrow shot right through the center of my heart. Even though it’s tempting to look away, I force myself to hold her gaze. It’s vital to bear witness to the harm I’ve inflicted. It’ll serve as a permanent reminder to never let my guard down again. The damage rippling in its wake isn’t worth it.
My gaze roams over her. So badly do I want to close the distance and pull her into my arms. She might only be five foot six, but Alyssa is a towering pillar of strength. I don’t think I’ve ever met another girl like her. It’s doubtful I ever will again. She’s brave, confident, and ballsy. It’s a wicked combination that drew me in from the very beginning.