Page 58 of Cruel Steps

“Seriously, Holden? I guess you really are in a football bubble. Let me spell it out for you. You’re hot as fuck. Your dick is magic, and you know what you’re doing in bed. You’re upfront, and while you’re not the most conversational guy, you treat women respectfully. The fact you’re headed to the pros makes you even more valuable. Girls want to lock you down, believing they’ll be the ones to tame the beast. The girl math for that works out in your favor, not against it. Don’t you remember how the first two years were?”

Now that she mentioned it, there had been a lot more girls back then. But then I’d gotten injured, and I hadn’t been interested in sex at all. When the next season started, I figured girls had moved on to other guys. I still had plenty of jersey chasers and my pick of pussy when I wanted it. But it had been different.

Gina’s face changed. If I had to guess, it was with pity. “Sorry, Holden, but your personality and reputation make you more of an obsession than a deterrent.”

“Then, why?” I gritted out, the acknowledgment difficult for me to make. This conversation had already gone on longer than I expected.

“You know the answer, and it’s not because you were injured.” She patted my chest like I was a little kid who’d just been told Santa wasn’t real. “Good luck with your girl.”

“There isn’t a girl,” I denied.

Gina looked at me with more pity, turning to leave, but stopped and glanced over her shoulder.

“Believe what you want, but based on the video sent out to the entire school and the other rumors I’ve heard, Hope doesn’t believe that. I’ve never seen her go after someone as hard as she is now. If I were your girl, I’d transfer schools.”

With that bomb, she walked away, leaving me gaping as I stared after her. I walked to my truck in a daze. Had I been that blind to my sister’s behavior? Did I even know her?

I thought I had, but it wasn’t like we spent time together. The last time we’d lived together was when I was thirteen, and she was ten. Seeing each other a couple of weekends out of the month didn’t leave time for a lot of bonding. Had I made the wrong choice to live with Dad? Would Hope be this way if I hadn’t?

I’d always believed I was doing the right thing by leaving. It was the only way I could protect my mom and sister. It kept him from trying to use us against her. It lifted Mom’s financial burden, and I’d naively believed her need to find a man. Living with Dad hadn’t been easy, and football had been my only escape. Maybe I had focused too much on it, losing sight of everything else. But I believed the sacrifice was worth it because Mom and Hope were safe.

Had it been useless? And what did that mean now? Was I making the same mistake by sacrificing for them?

I’d always put their needs above mine, but when had they chosen me first?

Heaviness rested on my shoulders as I climbed into my truck. I checked my phone and gritted my teeth when I saw several texts from the piece of shit known as my dad.

POS: I got a good deal for you.

POS: You just gotta keep the score low.

POS: Come on, son, it’s just one game. Help your father out.

POS: You know you need the money.

Turning my phone off, I threw it in the console so I wouldn’t see them anymore. It wasn’t enough that he’d already cost me so much, but he wanted more. Who in my life didn’t want something from me?

My coach wanted perfection.

My team wanted me to win.

My sister wanted me to hate Emerson.

My mom wanted us to be a happy family.

Girls wanted to use me or tie me to a future.

And my dad wanted me to cheat… again.

Smacking the steering wheel with my palms, I shouted my frustration until my voice went raw. Slumping into my seat, I focused on evening out the ragged breaths sawing out of me at a rapid speed. Dizziness tingled my mind, and I gripped my thighs and counted breaths. Slowly, my heart returned to a normal rhythm, and my lungs expanded with a full breath.

Maybe I needed to do precisely what Gina had suggested—fuck someone tonight. Before I blew my family up, I’d ensure this wasn’t an obsession I’d imagined because I couldn’t be with her. Or that my mind hadn’t amplified the connection and remembered the sex better than it was.

Tonight I’d fuck Emerson and either get her out of my system or solidify things between us for good.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-ONE

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