Page 69 of Offside Attraction

“Right, because it makes you uncomfortable. So we usually . . ." Tina shrugged and looked at Anne.

Rhonda looked between the two of them. “You talk about that? But just not with me?”

They nodded in unison. “But not because we don’t want to,” Tina said.

Rhonda exhaled. “Because I don’t want to.”

“Exactly.” Anne gave an apologetic smile. “But it’s not a bad thing?—”

“It sounds like a bad thing.” Rhonda pushed up from her stool. “I need to lie down.” She stalked into the living room. Anne and Tina followed, sitting in the chairs across from the couch as she plopped down and lay back on the pillows.

Rhonda felt like she was drowning, swirling around in a cesspool of emotion that had never made it past the floodgates. At least, not for a very long time. “I’m a bad friend.”

“No. Never,” Anne said vehemently.

Rhonda stared at the ceiling, her thoughts fragmenting, spinning.

“Feelings are a good thing.” Tina leaned back in her chair.

Rhonda turned her head. “How? All this feels like is a liability.”

Anne frowned. “With us?”

Rhonda ran a hand through her hair. “With everyone! He’s Jordan freaking Wheatfill! You know exactly how everyone on the Snowballs would react.”

Tina made a face, and Anne smacked her leg. “What? She’s not wrong.”

“Okay, fair, but that’s not really the point.” Anne turned back to Rhonda. “Let’s worry about that later. Why does this feel like a liability not because he’s Jordan freaking Wheatfill.”

Rhonda considered this. “Everything in here,” she motioned at her midsection, “is making me crazy. It’s not like I don’t have feelings. I just don't let them get out of control." She twisted a curl through her fingers. "I've always been able to shut them down. Especially with men. If I ever feel more than just that tingle of excitement, I think about all the ways it could go wrong, and poof. It's gone."

Tina blinked. "So you’re sabotaging."

"Protecting is a better word, I think?" Rhonda grinned sheepishly. Her throat tightened. This was when she’d normally crack a joke. Talk about some guy who hit on her at a luncheon. Instead she drew a shaky breath and said, “I don’t think I trust myself.”

Tina leaned in. “Please tell me we’re going to talk about your daddy issues.”

Rhonda scoffed. “How the hell?—?”

“Oh, c’mon! Anytime he comes up, you bolt so fast?—”

“I don’t bolt!”

Tina laughed. “You’re like ‘squirrel!’ And don’t get me wrong, I love the squirrel stories, they’re usually your best.”

Rhonda shot up on the couch. “So all this time, you guys have been looking at me knowing I’m a trash fire, and you never said anything?”

“BABE.” Tina pointed out at the patio. “We tried, if you remember? That whole relationship conversation?”

Anne shifted uncomfortably. “It didn’t go over well.”

Rhonda swallowed. Hard. “Okay.” She nodded. That was fair. She had gotten sulky. And told them they were trying to control her life and make her fit their relationship mould. “Okay.”

Tina motioned for her to continue. “Daddy issues. Please.”

Rhonda snorted. “Fine!” She ran her hands over her knees, staring at the coffee table. “I thought he was a saint. Like, a literal hero, you know? He always solved everything. Fixed everything. But then I came home for Christmas one year, and . . . It was like my rose coloured glasses were smashed. All those things he did, the compliments, the stepping in to solve things, they were just ways to get what he wanted."

Anne's eyes softened. "Rhonda, that's . . . I'm so sorry."

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