Page 126 of Cruel Steps

Emerson spun around, cupping my face in her hands. “Oh, Hol. It wasn’t your fault.”

“It feels like it is. That kid is lucky to walk, but he’ll never play football again. I took that away from him.”

“No, you didn’t. As much as you’re treated like a god, you’re not actually one. Injuries happen. There’s no way to know if you’d done everything exactly right if it wouldn’t have had the same outcome in the end. You can’t control everything, Hol. No matter how much you want to.”

Her fingers wiped away my tears, and I nodded. It felt good to unburden myself, to share this grief I’d been carrying around for years.

“Is that why you became so focused on football?”

“Yeah. It felt like I had to make it for me and that kid. I had to prove all the sacrifices were worth it.”

Emerson nodded. “What did your dad do after that?”

A wry chuckle left me. “He tried to blackmail me some more. Threatened Hope and Mom. There was always some scheme he had, promising me riches beyond my belief.” I rolled my eyes. “I became so stressed out, my game suffered, and eventually I was no use to him. The summer before my senior year, he got arrested for something non-gambling related and had to do time. I had one year left but was already eighteen, so I worked it out to stay with a teammate. That was the year it all turned around for me. Without him hounding me, I focused and played the best I ever had. It got me noticed again, and I was offered scholarships to several universities. For the first time, I felt like I was good at something, really good.”

“You’re good at a lot of things outside of football, Holden.” I shook my head. Her fingers wrapped around the nape of my neck, running through the hair and settling me. “I’m sorry your dad was such a dick. We have more in common than I thought.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, confused.

“He bullied you.”

“No, he didn’t. He was my father,” I protested.

“And Hope was my friend at one time.” She shrugged. “Bullying doesn’t look the same every time. You were made to do things you didn’t want to out of fear and harm coming to you or others. That’s bullying. He took away your agency and made you feel like you were worthless.”

I blinked. I hadn’t ever thought of it that way. “Damn.”

“Is that why you shut yourself off from people?”

I grimaced, but nodded. “He got out my sophomore year, but then I got injured, so he left me alone. I think… subconsciously, I believed if I had anyone in my life, he’d use them against me, and I was sick of being used. Keeping my focus on football made it easier to protect myself. No one questioned it, and I stayed safe in my little bubble. That was until I walked into a club and a beautiful dancer shook my entire foundation. You took my breath away, Wildcat.” I sucked in a breath. My hands shook, but I lifted them and cupped her face.

“That morning, you made it clear we wouldn’t be anything more, and I tried to hate you for being someone else who only wanted me for one thing. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you. When I saw you at the house, I thought I’d finally gotten something good. Then Hope lied to me, and I easily believed her because I was scared of wanting something and losing it. No matter how much I told myself to stay away, I couldn’t. You fought back with me, and I craved that jolt of life you gave me. Then Hope got hurt, and once again, I was reminded how anything good in my life could be taken away. So, I pushed you away, knowing you were the one person who could destroy me. But I destroyed myself instead.”

“No—”

“I’m a complete fucking mess, Wildcat. I’ve screwed up so much. I’ve been doing this stupid dance and messing up all the steps. I’ve tried being cruel. I’ve tried being friendly. Hell, I’ve even tried to be indifferent. None of it fucking worked. So, I’m done with that. I’m just going to be honest.” I took a breath. “Today, I saw what real love can do, and I want that. I want that with you, Em. I love you. I’m in love with you. So fucking in love, and I’ll do whatever it takes to show you.”

Tears trailed down her cheeks, her eyes full of emotion, and I prayed she felt an ounce of what I did. “Say something, baby.”

She shook her head and then hit me on the chest. “Ow. What’s that for?’

“You’re a dumbass.”

“Great.” I pulled my hands away, but she gripped them.

“You’re a dumbass because I love you, too. I’m in love with you, Holden. I tried not to be, but I am.” She shrugged with a watery smile, and I felt my lungs expand, the air filling me and giving me life.

I crashed my lips against hers, lifting her in my arms. She felt perfect there, and I knew she was right. I’d been a dumbass.

I thought I’d been running the right plays, but there was no playbook when it came to Emerson Adams. She’d intercepted my heart that first night, and I’d never been able to recover. I once believed the only thing that was important in life was the love of a game, but it was nothing compared to the love of a woman—this woman, to be exact.

There might not be any play calls for me to reference, but I’d work just as hard never to fail her again.

Having Emerson’s heart felt better than any win ever would.

I could live without football, but not her. Never her.

CHAPTER

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