Page 86 of The Trouble with Players

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Not wanting to answer a bunch of questions I couldn’t even wrap my own head around, I left Gina’s car keys on her doorstep. I hurried to my house and entered the kitchen through the back door. There was a note on the island.

In Boston for the weekend.

Coward.

He didn’t even have the balls to tell me the truth when I begged him to tell me what happened. He let me walk around for days not knowing where Crew went and why he left. And, all along, he knew the truth.

I climbed the steps to the second floor and entered my room. I eyed my bed, but decided on some fresh air. I moved to my French doors and pulled them open. I stepped onto my balcony and sat in my new Adirondack chair. I rested my head back and stared up at the stars, trying not to think of my night under the stars on the island with Crew. But it was all I could think about. How happy I’d been. How happy he’d been.

A shooting star moved across the sky, and I laughed. Of course I’d see a shooting star right now. Crew harassed me for not wishing on things, so I made a wish—for all of this to be a dream.

I closed my eyes and listened to the crashing of the waves. If I could just focus on them, my mind wouldn’t take me to places I didn’t want it to go. I needed to release my anger at my father. I needed to forget my feelings for Crew. I needed to focus on being happy.

Tears snuck out of my closed eyes.

The truth remained. None of those options were possible. Because none of those options put Crew and me together at the end.

* * *

“Peyton!” Gina called.

Still curled in a ball on my Adirondack chair, I cracked open my eyes, happy to see the sun wasn’t shining.

“Where are you?” she called from my patio down below.

“Up here,” I grumbled. The overcast sky would make it easier to stay out there.

Within seconds, she was on my balcony. “You haven’t answered your phone all night. What happened?”

“Nothing you could ever even imagine,” I assured her.

“What’s that mean?” she asked, crouching beside me.

“It’s over.”

“What? Why?”

I shifted in my chair so I was sitting on my ass and not my hip. “Because it just won’t work.”

“Says who?”

“Both of us. We agreed we’re better off as friends.”

She stood up and leaned against the railing with crossed arms. “I don’t understand.”

“Can we not talk about it right now?”

“Of course we need to talk about it. The guy packed up and disappeared leaving you heartbroken. Now, you’re telling me he reappears and you decide you’re better off as friends. What am I missing?”

I shrugged.

“Did he hurt you?” Gina pressed.

“No.”

“Did he cheat?” she asked.

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