Page 56 of The Quarterback Sneak

He’s quiet for a second. “Jamie and I had a little argument after agreeing on updating the bet.”

“Oh my gosh, are you okay?”

“Pfft. I’m fine. Jamie would have to hit me in my sleep to get a punch in. But judging by his reaction, I would say he seemed pretty damn invested in you.”

“Doesn’t change things. He didn’t fight for me when it mattered. I’m nothing but a possession to him. A plaything that he can control and use to make him look good at parties. That might be a good enough life for my mom, but it’s not for me. I want someone who wants me and makes me feel like I’m the best thing that ever happened to them.”

Zach averts his gaze and stares out the window at his beautiful family home. For a minute, I expect him to say something about dropping him here, but he doesn’t.

“I’ve no doubts that you’ll find that,” he says, and I feel a little disappointed even though I have no right to. Secretly, I had fantasies of him looking at me like that, but he didn’t even bother to make eye contact.

His hand hovers over the door handle, and it feels like he doesn’t want to open it, and I don’t want him to because that means I’ll have to go home without him.

“Is that your bike?” I point to the old, rusty machine sitting under the pergola next to his house. “You mentioned it the other night.”

“Well, points for listening. That’s old Nessy herself. She’s been out of action for the better part of three years. My uncle dropped it off, telling me he’d fix it with me so I’d have something to drive to my fancy pants high school.”

“Is it nearly done?”

“Haven’t started work on it. My uncle hasn’t been around in a while.” He’s hesitant, and I know there’s an underlying story there, but again, I hold back. If he wanted me to know these things, he’d tell me, and honestly, I’d rather he choose to tell me than me force him to answer. “I’ve had no time to do anything except study, play football, and work out since joining SouthPoint. I have a job during the off-season to help make ends meet, and when I’m not working, I have other commitments.”

“Oh yeah? What other commitments?” I had to ask this time; he gave too many vague references that I would have looked stupid if I didn’t.

He waves his hand flippantly, tightening his grip on the handle but still not leaving. “Doesn’t matter.” His response is icy cold, and even though I can’t see his face, I know he’s ticked off that I asked. “Thanks for the ride, Honey.”

No nickname.

“I’ve got to go,” he mumbles while opening the door, then slamming it.

“Geez,” I mutter, rest my head on the seat, and watch as Zach leaves. The curtain twitches and I make eye contact with the girl who lives there. The one he says is his sister, but I’m still not sure I believe that answer.

More and more, it’s starting to feel like she might be one of Zach’scommitments.

Driving home in silence, I spend too much time thinking about him and whether what’s going on between us is the right thing. He’s clearly got a lot going on at home, and I feel like I’m taking away from that. But he approached me and clearly needed the money. It doesn’t help that the idea of cutting things off with Zach brings a sense of dread to my bones.

When I arrive home, there’s a message waiting for me on my phone. Zach’s name pops up, and I scan the driveway, making sure I’m alone. The porchlight is on, but no one is twitching the curtain to see if I’ve arrived home. I haven’t missed one of my mother’s classes in weeks, so she has no reason to bother me, and my father is too busy working to notice if I’m around.

I sit back and open the message, preparing for the worst.

Zach:I’m sorry I was an ass, Sunshine. Things got to me. Will you call me when you get home?

Call? Does he want to hear my voice as much as I want to hear his, or am I reading too much into this again? Quickly, I press call and wait for the car to connect us.

“Honey?” His voice sounds urgent among the laughter in the background. He’s with his family, and I feel like I’m intruding even though I’m miles away on the other end of the line.

“Hey, Zach. Sorry, it sounds like I’m interrupting something. I’ll speak to you tomorrow.”

“No. No.” I hear him shuffling away from the noise, then a loud bang, which I presume is a door. “Is this better?”

His smooth voice is the only thing filling the car now, and it warms my body. “Much better.” I moan and open my eyes, shocked. I really hope he didn’t hear that.

“Good. Thanks for calling.”

I mumble a light “Mm-hm” in response.

“I’m sorry about earlier. Things just got to me.”

“What things?” I’m skating that same line I did earlier with the “commitment” comment, but it feels like he’s inviting it.

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