Page 56 of Quarterback Sneak

If someone had asked her weeks ago if this house represented Sam, she’d have laughed in their face. Tonight, she couldn’t help notice a haunting familiarity; polished and larger than life on the outside. On the inside however, empty, unattached, and unemotional. A lump formed in her throat, sadness cutting through her anger.

Even when it had been furnished, she’d bet the restaurant that the décor was pristine and practiced, devoid of the chaos which made a house a home. She allowed her fingertip to glide along the smooth marble countertop and glanced about the chef’s kitchen. All of this was an illusion. How real was the Sam she’d fallen in love with and how much was part of the con? “Why didn’t you tell me it was so bad?”

He frowned at her curt tone and leaned over to kiss her. Ivy turned her head. She couldn’t be distracted or talked out of this. She wanted the truth.

“It’s not so bad as long as I have you.” He tilted her chin up with his knuckle and looked at her with such intensity, desire mingling with affection.

Although the words never formed on his lips, his eyes reflected love. Regret tugged at her heart. He might love her, but not enough to bear his heart to her. If she ever hoped to get answers, she required some space to regroup. She moved to the far side of the island. The next few minutes would determine the course of their relationship and while the coward in her wanted to run, she stood her ground against the overwhelming need. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

“I’m not pretending.” Sam pulled a corkscrew from a drawer and retrieved a bottle of wine from the rack. The sound of the cork popping from the bottle broke the silence that stretched between them.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she repeated, pleased that her voice didn’t shake. Inside she was a hot mess.

“I didn’t consider it important,” he said, pouring a glass and handing it over.

She took the wine and palmed the bowl, but she didn’t take a drink. Alcohol would dull her wits and she needed to keep her mind sharp. As much as she longed for some liquid courage, it wasn’t wise at this juncture. “You didn’t consider it important to tell me your house is being foreclosed on or that your car was being repossessed? Then what do you think is important to tell me?”

He narrowed his eyes at the snippy question and straightened his back, palms pressed flat to the marble counter between them. “How about that I love you? That I want to be with you for the rest of my life. That I want to marry you and have kids with you. That’s what I think is important.”

“It’s a beautiful sentiment, but it’s not sufficient.” His declaration should have made her happy but she’d learned her lesson with Kevin not to allow her heart to overrule her gut instinct. “Loving me isn’t enough. Trust is what matters. Sharing the good and the bad and having confidence in the person you’re with that they won’t judge you but support you.”

“You think I don’t do that?” Incredulity marked his brow as if she’d just told him he’d eaten babies for breakfast.

She nodded, pleased to finally get things off her chest. “You evade me like you did those reporters at the market. There is a fine line between work and home and you never cross the line.”

“That’s unfair. I can’t blurt out details about my contract without repercussions.”

“I’ve tried to respect your job and not ask questions about the contract because of the sensitivity of the subject. But this isn’t about the contract. This is about you confiding in me, trusting me enough to speak your mind, to express your feelings. Instead, you offer me blanket platitudes. It’s not what I want from a relationship. I want mess, chaos, craziness.” Ivy couldn’t believe the words flowing from her lips nor the pain each one caused her. His comment about his desire for their future tugged at her heart and she wanted to suppress the need for more than he was willing to offer. She couldn’t do that.

“The past few weeks haven’t been crazy enough for you?”

“It’s been the most real I’ve seen you but I’m not even sure if it’s the real you, especially after Alice’s follow-up email. How could you do that to me? How could you go behind my back and agree to be on the show?” She clenched her fists, nails biting into her palms, outraged all over again. Get it all out in the open. You have no other choice.

Sam frowned at her snappish comment. “I thought you wanted to be on the show.”

“I did want to be on the show. Under my terms.”

“You told me you wanted someone to make the decision for you, so I made it. It’s for a good cause that benefits the both of us, plus a hell of lot of other people.”

She rocked back on her heels, anger, pain, and betrayal cut into her soul. “Oh no, you don’t get to make me feel guilty about this. I wanted to be on the show because of me, not because of you. Now Alice and everybody else thinks I’m using you to get ahead. Even if I win, there will still be doubt in everybody’s mind.”

He lowered his head, releasing an audible sigh before he spoke with annoying calmness. “Nobody will think that. I—”

“Yes, they will. Both Cassandra and Alice tried to tempt me to be on their shows by offering to further my career. They accused me of being a gold digger and you just confirmed their every suspicion.” Throat tight, she tried to remain calm and not breakdown. “I don’t need you to fix my problems. I was talking through them with a friend, at least that’s what I thought we were. But apparently, it’s one-sided.”

“That’s unfair.” His expression remained infuriatingly stoic.

The blood began to pound in her temples. “Is it? It was hard for me to tell you about Kevin but I did. Did my confession change your opinion of me?”

“No, of course not. Your past is what defines you.” Sam pushed himself from the counter and crossed his arms over his chest, clearly vexed by the turn of the conversation.

“So does yours. It’s a two-way street.” She mirrored his stance, her own arms crossed high on her chest. Tremors rocked her legs and she planted her feet more firmly on the ground to stop the unwelcome shaking.

“I don’t understand what you want from me. You already know about my health, my house, my car, my contract. What else do you want to hear?” His guarded expression kicked up a notch and her stomach plummeted even more.

“I want you to listen to what I’m saying. You’re still deflecting every single one of my questions. It’s what you do, whether you intend to or not. Craddock stole millions of dollars. That has to bother you. It bothers me.” For months after she’d ended it with Kevin, she’d schemed of a hundred ways to hurt him the same way he’d hurt her and her family. Not her proudest moment but he’d taken something she’d never get back, her ability to trust blindly.

Sam flexed his arms, his shirt pulling at the shoulder seams. He raised his chin a notch, eyes narrowed. “Is that what this is about, the money?”

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