Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 51484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
“And who is speaking?”
“This is his sister, Sutton.”
“Hold, please.”
I guess that means it’s the right password and I’m on the list. My leg bounces nervously as I stare out at the backyard, waiting anxiously. Still not entirely sure what I’m going to say.
When Jamison comes on the line five minutes later, I still haven’t figured it out.
“Hi,” I whisper, my mouth bone dry.
“Hey,” he says. He sounds tired. “I’m glad you called.”
“How…how are you?”
“Better. The first few days were a bitch. Alcohol withdrawal.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have anything to be sorry about, baby sister,” he says quietly. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.”
“I read your statement. I’m…I’m proud of you, Jamison.”
“Christ.” A choked breath rasps down the line. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t do it for you. I did it because it was the right thing to do. I should have done it a long time ago.”
“I know,” I whisper, clutching the phone tightly.
“How are things there? The press leaving you alone?”
“It’s okay. It’s been manageable.”
“Good. I was worried…but I guess Jordan wouldn’t let them hound you.”
“No, he won’t.”
Jamison sighs down the line. “Are we going to be okay, Sutton? Will you ever forgive me?”
“I’m trying,” I admit, my throat burning. “I…I don’t think things will ever be the same between us again. I don’t think they can be after everything you did. But…I’m willing to try to fix things between us, Jamison.” I pause, biting my lip. “But you don’t get to interfere with my relationship with Jordan. It has nothing to do with you. If you can’t live with that, then…”
He’s quiet for a long moment, and then he sighs. “Jordan will be good for you, baby sister. As much as I hate to admit it, he’ll treat you the way you deserve. He’s always been a better man than I was.”
I’m not really sure what to say to that, so I don’t say anything.
“One of my biggest regrets is ruining our friendship over my own bullshit. He always kept my head on straight.”
“What’s your other regret?” I ask, curious because of his password. He chose it for a reason. “Losing Vanessa?”
“No. I know I deserved to lose her after what I did. I’ll always love her, but she deserves better. Hell, she always did. I think I knew that back then. I fucked everything up because she was perfect, and I couldn’t get out of my own goddamn way.”
“She loved you,” I whisper.
“I know.” He pauses again. “My other regret is letting you down, Sutton. If I could take it all back, I would. I’m so goddamn sorry for everything.” His voice shakes like he’s crying…and that wrecks me. I haven’t seen him cry since our parents died. He’s always tried to keep it together, to be the strong one. And now, he’s crying because he hurt me.
I choke on a sob, the world outside the window blurring with tears. “I…I need to go,” I say, my heart twisting painfully. It hurts and it heals and I just…really need Jordan right now.
“Will you call again?” he asks, his voice full of tentative, fragile hope.
“Yeah, I’ll call again,” I promise.
“Thank you.”
I set the phone down on the counter with a clatter.
“Princess,” Jordan whispers from behind me as if he knew I’d need him and was waiting.
I turn, walking right into his outstretched arms. They close around me, sheltering me in peace, in safety.
“I love you,” he murmurs.
I know he does. And I know that, because of him, I’ll be okay. Even if Jamison never gets it together. Even if I can’t ever forgive him fully…I’ll be okay. We both will.
We have each other now. And that feels a little like having everything.
Chapter Fifteen
Jordan
“What the fuck are they doing?” Archer asks, stopping right in the middle of our practice skate before the game, his brows furrowed. The way he’s staring at the bench immediately has me turning to see what he’s looking at.
Confusion swirls through me when I see his wife holding a giant sign with my name on it.
“What the fuck?”
Peyton stands up on Wren’s other side, hoisting a giant piece of posterboard over her head, too. This one has an arrow, pointing at Emilia.
I glance at Emilia warily, convinced she’s up to some bullshit. With her, it’s always some bullshit. But she just hops to her feet with a shit-eating grin, lifting her own sign.
“Sutton has a question for you,” I read before my eyes immediately slide toward my girl, standing in the middle of them with a bright, mischievous smile on her face. What is she up to?
I skate toward the bench, determined to find out.
Nash opens the door separating the bench from the stands, smirking at me like he knows something I don’t. Jesus Christ. Did she wrangle the whole team into helping her with whatever she’s doing?